


bad decisions are what we're known for

by scionofthelongproject



Series: magic and might [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DCU (Comics)
Genre: General au, Multi, Rose Wilson plans ahead, more will be expanded upon in later chapters, welcome to a worldbuilding fic that's based off a smut one shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-08 00:05:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 41,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10373046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scionofthelongproject/pseuds/scionofthelongproject
Summary: 'A man's greatest enemy is himself.'Leave it to Rose Wilson to misconstrue the saying in the most off-the-rails way possible.





	1. trust my intentions

The waves crash against the sand, echoing to the trees and getting lost in the foliage. She stands far away from where the ocean water soaks the sand. Instead of looking at the waves or even the helicopter behind her, she's staring at the hatch door below her, wheel taunting her.

 _You can't do it,_ it whispers. _You don't have the courage._

She purses her lips at the intrusive thought, reaching down and spinning the hatch up in defiance. Throwing the door open, she jumps down, landing on her feet with little shock. The entryway is small, door to the cells shut with no way knowing what's inside.

_You can't do it._

With a deep breath she slams the door open, grabbing the guard by his shirt and throwing him against the wall. He's taken aback by the surprise and she uses the advantage to flip him over her shoulder; the sound of his head cracking against the concrete appeases her nerves.

The sound of shuffling from one of the cells alerts her, and the anxiety rushing through her blood speeds up. She takes a deep breath and turns, looking upon the man in the cell.

She wasn't expecting to see him so much younger, so full of life. He wears a different eyepatch than what's she used to, and his hair has only grayed just a little. His back is pressed against the wall, resting an arm on a raised knee and regarding her with high interest. He says nothing, waiting for her to make the first move.

Thoughts blur together, making it hard for her to form words. “Are your services for sale?”

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ She thinks internally, but keeps her lips pursed in an effort to maintain her poker face.

He raises his eyebrows, giving her a sarcastic smirk that she's only seen a few times in her life. With a wave of his hand, he laughs dryly. “If you can get me out of here.”

The feeling of such familiarity makes her heart ache and squeeze itself, and instead of dwelling on such emotions, she pulls her foot back to stomp against the lock of the cell door. It clatters to the ground, broken by her force. “Looks like I can.” She says it to distract herself, pulling herself together to focus as she turns away. “Come on, we don't have much time. Gray will leave without us in five minutes if we don't get to the helicopter.”

Something pulls again, deeper this time, and she turns her head to look at him.

Her father.

“I'm Rose, by the way.”

Her father that doesn't even know her.

* * *

Grayson is sprawled out in the pilot’s chair, leg hanging off the armrest. When Rose opens the door, he throws up his hand. “Operation Sandstorm a go?” As the man behind her gets in, he scoffs. “Of course it is.” His legs swivel and he stands, staring at the man. “I'm Dick Grayson.”

“I'm-”

“Slade Wilson.” When Slade raises his eyebrows, Grayson laughs humorlessly. “Yeah, I know who you are, so listen up. You talk to me without permission, I throw you out. You try to kill me or Rose, I throw you out. You try to jump-”

“Let me guess, you throw me out,” Slade finishes, boredom in every note of his voice.

“No, I let you fall out. Now sit down and shut the hell up.”

Rose sighs, brushing back a strand of hair from her forehead. “Gray, stop it.” She turns to look at Slade, or rather, turns to look somewhere in his direction without having eye contact. “Just sit down. Don't make me chain you to the bench.”

“You still haven't told me about what you need me for.”

“I don't plan to until we get back home.” She slips her headphones over her ears as she settles into the co-pilot’s seat. Dick starts up the engine, lifting off as soon as possible. _This place sucks,_ He signs to her.

 _You didn't even have to train here,_ She replies back, wrapping her jacket tight around her.

All he does is smile as they fly east, leaving Lian Yu in the far distance.

* * *

The chopper touches down in the open field, spreading the grass out from the winds. Slade has stayed surprisingly silent the entire fly, Rose notes as she gets out of the seat, and she turns to see him lying on the bench, staring at the ceiling with his head resting on his folded arms. “You'd think with being in that cell for so long, you would've tired of watching the ceiling.”

“When you do something for so long, it becomes habit.”

She sighs before opening the door. “Save the humor. Let’s go.”

Dick follows them out before he locks up the helicopter. “Is Zee alright with this?”

“Should be. Said to leave it like this.”

“I meant this operation, Ro.”

“Oh.” Rose shrugs, rolling her eyes. “No, she doesn't know.”

“God, Bruce is going to be pissed when he finds out about this.” Dick runs his hand through his hair from worry and it makes her laugh.

“If you were so afraid, why'd you help me?”

Dick shrugs as he walks to a blue car off to the side. “Because you're hopeless!” He calls out over the car door before getting in.

They watch him drive off and Rose sighs before reaching into her jacket. “Alright, let’s go.”

“And if I don't want to?”

She turns to see him seeming relaxed but she knows he's poised for attack; his eye is cold, regarding her as less of a person and more as an obstacle. “Besides Grayson, there's one other person who knows of what I'm doing,” She says flatly. “They're scheduled to take a call from me. If they don't get the right kind of call, ARGUS will be called and you will be hunted. Don't forget, you still have that chip in your neck.”

Almost like clockwork, Slade raises his hand to feel the slight bump of the electronic under his skin. “Then why aren't they tracking me down now?”

“Same person waiting for the call is also sending them a feedback loop through their system. Fairly easy for him.” She pulls out her keys and shakes them. “But if he doesn't get that call, he doesn't continue the loop, so let's go.”

Without another word, he follows her into the thicket of trees. Rose looks around trying to pick out what she's looking from the foliage and a glint of metal catches her eye.

_There._

She grabs the camosheet and pulls it off, revealing the motorcycle underneath. The screen attached to the mirror flickers and she sends a quick message to the person on the other side before closing out. “Get on.”

“No helmet, no gear?”

“Nope.”

“And if we crash?”

The thought of crashing the bike makes her laugh. “We won't. I wouldn't dream of letting it happen.” She swings her leg over the seat, looking up at him. It was expected for him to be this stubborn, but she keeps forgetting this Slade didn't know about her. He doesn't know what she can do, doesn't know about any of her powers. She doesn't know how to tell him who she is. Would he care that her mother was dead? Did he even remember who Lilith Worth was? For the first time since she’s decided to go through with this, doubt creeps into her mind to make a nest, but she sweeps it away without another second. Any doubt now will make her weak, and she needs all the strength she can for the oncoming storm.

They all will need it.

* * *

This girl is such an oddity.

Her eyes shift away from him from what is almost guilt, but also with a sense of hiding the truth, as if she's burdened by something. The sarcastic attitude she gives is admirable, considering she knows who he is, and the aura she has is commanding, steadfast in her decisions. Sure, he could take his chances with running from ARGUS, but he's intrigued about this job she has yet to name. Her eyes are familiar, giving him a look that his memory cannot seem to recall but is sure it exists.

Whoever this Rose is, Slade Wilson is interested in following her down the rabbit hole.

Her driving is impeccable as well; he's never seen anyone turn on a motorcycle so smoothly, though he does suspect she skirts by semis here and there to make a point. The area turns from rural to suburbs gradually, small towns passing to lead to bigger cities. He makes sure to learn each name, even if they're only in it for five seconds. As soon as they turn off onto a highway, he's faced with skyscraper upon skyscraper. The sign to their right blurs by, but he's still able to make out the words ‘East City’ before it melts away. Instead of heading into the heart of it, she takes a turnpike, leading to the outskirts of the city, full of warehouses and factories. The roads she goes down are particular, and they arrive at a seemingly abandoned building. “Alright, welcome home.”

“Home?”

She slides off the motorcycle, walking up to unhook a chain. “Yeah, you're staying here.” Swinging the door open, she motions him forward. “Come on, bring her in. I can't afford to replace that bike.”

“It’s not yours?” He looks at her with skepticism; she seemed the type to own one, especially this one with dark purple swirls and a butterfly on the fuel tank.

“Mine’s not built for long trips like that. This one is.” Rose locks up the door behind him, tugging on it to test its yield. “I'll get you settled in before I take off.”

The doors leading into the warehouse are rusted shut, and Rose seems to know as she bypasses every one of them to move a sheet of metal to the side. “Come on,” She says to him, as if coaxing a scared animal over. The idea grates at his ego, but he still follows her in.

There's a cot nestled into an alcove of boxes, and it looks rather cozy for being where it is. A table next to the alcove has various guns and combat machetes, and beside that is a fridge that has a multitude of plain magnets on it. The rest of the warehouse has clutter here and there that Slade knows doesn't belong to Rose, except for a standing bag in the opposite corner. “Yeah, sorry about the mess. I tend not to clean up much.” The words are superficial; he knows she's idly making small talk to fill the silence.

“It's not the worst I've slept in,” He notes with a shrug.

It takes her back, her mouth agape before she snaps it shut. The action is perplexing to him; she has yet to show any trace of unpreparedness, but a simple reply and she's off-kilter. She avoids eye contact with him, choosing to wander over to the bench. “Look, I don't have a job for you yet. Take your freedom off that godforsaken island as an advance. If you kill anyone or raise too much havoc, I'll call in ARGUS, and if I'm not able to do it, my associate will.”

“Clothing, food…?”

Rose turns and the smug smile is back on her face. “I said ‘too much havoc’. I'm sure you're able to steal necessities. Plus, it'll keep you on your feet. Don't want you getting rusty.”

The comment is another sting to his pride and Slade exhales, nostrils flaring. “Do you doubt me?”

She shakes her head with a smile. “Hell no, just poking and prodding.” She walks towards the entry, tracing along the wall. “Try to take care of this place. It's been good to me since I found it.” With that, she leaves him alone to sift through the multitude of thoughts he has.

Why break him out just to leave him unguarded, especially in a place full of weapons that he can use a million different ways? She's so blasé about it, he almost wants to believe she doesn't fully know what she's doing.

Almost.

He doesn't though, because there's a certain air about her that says she's quite familiar with him and what he does. She brushed his threats off in the field clearing, not affected by them at all. She has something about her that makes him nostalgic from something unidentifiable so long ago.

The first thing he does after thinking is investigate the fridge. There's a lot of yogurt, as well as a multitude of sports drinks, which forces him to plan out what he needs to grab and when it'll be opportune. Before that, he'll have to grab clothes and something to cover his face with.

He waits, mulling around before he finds a metal trunk hidden behind some rubble. Opening it reveals shirts and pants. Some he knows are meant for Rose, but others are much bigger than what would fit her. The thought of trying them on passes through his mind and he pauses with a shirt in his hands.

It wouldn't hurt to try.

Surprisingly, anything that isn't Rose’s size fits him perfectly. He chooses all black to better sneak in the night with, and throws on a grey beanie to better keep warmth in. As he grabs socks, a pair of Rose’s jeans fall off of the edge. He goes to grab for them and a wallet falls out of it. Inside, he finds thirty dollars, a fake ID, and a folded piece of paper tucked behind it. The paper feels like a photo and he hesitates to look at it; to invade on Rose’s privacy could have potentially dangerous consequences. After a moment, he unfolds it.

Fuck it.

His heart slams into his ribs, racing at what he sees. His fingers trace her black hair along the wrinkles of the photo and he remembers the softness of it as they cuddled in a tent before their flight out. She's holding a young child that he can safely presume is Rose, with a grin that spreads cheek to cheek, and there's dirt on both of them. And he knows it's dirt because he remembers how much she loved flowers and how much she wanted a garden of her own, the kind that could only be found in fantasy novels, and he can hear her talking about it in that soft yet firm voice and his heart wrenches tight as her smile covers his mind and-

_Lili. Oh, Lili, Lili, Lili._

He looks away, flipping the photo over before looking down again. There's a small note written in the corner that confirms what he already knows: ‘Lili and Rose, 2005.’

There was no doubt that Rose was Lilith’s daughter; he should have known those eyes from anywhere and even still remembers how Lili would give him the same miffed look when he did something that annoyed her. Even Rose’s white hair, a genetic quirk of the Worth family, is a tip-off that he should’ve known. As he stares at the photo, the feeling that he needs answers festers, growing inside until he puts the photo in his pocket.

Slade needs to find her.

* * *

It's a hair’s breadth away from being pitch black when he decides to sneak through the industrial district. Hopping fences is nothing to him; he's been doing this since he was in his teen years, and he passes just as quick through the suburbs.

A convenience store is still open, lone cashier nose deep in a book. He grabs a few of the maps; one city, one county, and one state. There's no words exchanged as he's handed his cash; the cashier doesn't even bother to look up at him.

A blessing, if Slade had anything to say about it. He'd rather not use the knife he slipped into his pocket before leaving.

He locates where he is quite quickly, and after spotting a car being left unattended, he has a ride to drive down the interstate. The traffic is light, letting him cruise with nothing but low music and his own thoughts. Feelings of differing notes almost move inside, carving away at carefully built walls that he's worked on the last forty years of his life, and he hasn't seen Lilith in a little over twenty years; Slade could even admit that she was a reason for half of the walls. He's missed her in some odd way, a little piece of him that he never knew existed. The sage advice she used to give is something he needs now, something that he’s needed quite a few times since he last saw her.

Cities pass and he becomes more familiar with the road he's on. He remembers the drives he would take her on, trying to get her comfortable with life here instead of Cambodia. Nostalgia fills him and he smiles sadly when he crosses the line to pass into New York City.

If she's moved, he’ll at least be able to track her from the original place where her refuge-camp-in-disguise brothel originally started. The way is still etched into his memory, and he parks in a lot a block away before heading its way.

The sun is rising, and its rays highlight the charred exterior as he walks towards the building. Slade steps through a hole in the wall, and he sees the burnt decor on the floor, mood plummeting as he recognizes it. This fire destroyed Lilith’s work, and he doesn't know where to go from here.

A scattering noise alerts him, and he whirls around as he's unhinging the knife. A hand grabs his wrist and Rose smirks at him. “Careful with that.”

He wrenches his arm out of her grasp, glaring at her. “You're Lilith’s daughter.”

The accusatory tone he uses makes her smirk wider and she puts her hands on her hips. “So what if I am?”

“That's the kind of detail you don't leave out when it comes to hiring someone. You knew who I was.”

Rose tilts her head, looking away. “I did. My mother trusted you, so I figured I could trust you.”

“You haven't exactly done your research, otherwise you'd know my good deeds back then don't matter too much now. Or has the Starling Siege fallen off in obscurity?”

“I don't care what you did in Star City, I care about what you'll do for me.” She nods to the opening. “Come on. Let's go back.”

As they step out, a black Charger is parked on the curb. A woman is leaning against the car, sun radiating off of her midnight hair. With a slow hand, she takes off her sunglasses, disbelief melting into anger as she looks at them. “This is what you borrowed the helicopter for?” Rose starts to speak and the woman raises her hand. “No, I don't want to hear it. Get in the car.” With a seething glare at Slade, she stalks around and gets in the driver’s seat.

“Does that include me?” He asks Rose.

All she does is shrug. “Fuck if I know. Might as well see.”


	2. broken compass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Motives revealed, and she's lost.

The woman stares at the road, knuckles straining against the fabric of her gloves as she grips the steering wheel. “Had I known what you were planning, I wouldn't have let you borrow the helicopter.”

“I would've talked you into it,” Rose retorts, leaning against the window and staring out.

Slade sits in the back, quietly taking in the events of the two women. The woman in black hadn't argued when he got in, only letting out an angry sigh before turning the car on. She knows of him, obviously, but he gains more curiosity as they argue; how did they know of him? Did Lilith talk about him more than he could ever have imagined? It seems uncharacteristic of her if so; she tried to be as private as she could be.

“Don't be such a brat,” The woman bites out, huffing as she passes a car.

“Zatanna, left!”

Rose’s cry causes her to duck into the right lane as a large truck overtakes the lane, and Zatanna lays on the horn before letting out a frustrated groan. “Why did you make me come up here, Rose?”

“I didn't. I asked for the car, you asked what I was doing, I told you ‘nothing’, and then you got in the car and told me to get in, and kept driving in circles until I gave in and explained.” Rose articulates her hands as she talks, expressive with every word.

Silence falls over the car, blanketing them until Slade brings himself to talk. “Rose, where is your mother?”

Both of the women freeze, and Zatanna turns to look at Rose. “You didn't tell him,” She notes, sadness in her voice.

“...I couldn't,” Rose whispers.

He's already prepared for the worst when Zatanna looks in the mirror and meets his eyesight. “I…” Her eyes dart away and she takes a breath. “The fire… it destroyed everything. We found her body after the flames died out.”

Another piece of his past buried once again. It's hard for him to swallow and he looks out the window, focusing on the green branches of trees passing to distract himself from the news.

A fragment of a memory drifts into his mind and the echo of her laughter makes him squeeze his eye shut.

_Oh, Lili._

* * *

They arrive back at the warehouse at dusk, wordless until Zatanna opens the fridge. “Rose, is this all you've been eating?”

“Other things, too! That's just…” Rose shrugs, searching for a viable excuse. “That's just a constant.”

Zatanna lets out a long sigh, looking around before shaking her head. “You're moving back in with me.”

“Zee, I'll be fine. Plus, what about the Tita-”

“I don't give a damn, Rose.” Zatanna looks over at Slade for a second, brow furrowed in consideration before shrugging. “Yeah, still don't give a damn. He can move in with us.”

For the first time, he dares argue with Zatanna. “I don't think that's necessary.”

Her eyes narrow into slits and she marches over to grab him by the collar and pull him down to her level. “It's either an island or my flat. Your choice,” She hisses.

Slade is surprised to find he's not angered by this action, merely annoyed by it. She has the same tenacity as Lili did; it's no wonder they knew each other. The answer is obvious anyways; he'd rather try killing himself than go back to Lian Yu.

Zatanna sees the decision in his eye and nods in a sort of victory. “Then it's settled.” She turns and looks at Rose. “Get this pigsty packed up.”

“But Zee, this is my bachelorette pad,” Rose whines. After Zatanna gives her a glare before leaving, Rose sighs and grabs the duffel bag in the corner. “Fine.” After shoving all the clothes from the trunk in, she stops to search her jeans before glancing up at Slade. The look on her face is unreadable except for the slight purse of her lips. “Do you have it?”

There’s no doubt she's talking about the photo, and he gives her a half-shrug. “If I do?” Slade would rather not give it up, as it's all he has left; the few things that were mementos of their time together are hidden halfway across the world in Cambodia.

“Keep it safe, or I'll have your head.” She throws the bag over her shoulder and throws another at his feet. “Get the food packed, then we’re gone.” 

* * *

 

It's only been a few months, but it feels like it's been longer since she laid down in this bed. The worry, the guilt of Zatanna catching any flak for what Rose has done, has kept her away, but Rose is not one to argue with her magical guardian. If Zatanna wants her to stay, she'll do so.

The worry in the pit of her stomach grows, eating its way up slowly. There's too much at stake for her to not have broken her father out, yet there's still the guilt of leaving behind a large part of her family to do so.

_Cassie._

The name makes her choke, head dizzy from the thought of her love’s face distraught in anguish. Rose didn't want to leave, but there was no other way. The Titans’ safety came before her feelings; Zatanna came first, above all else. The foundation of the Titans, the cornerstone that was a constant. Without Zatanna, everything would fall apart, and she can't let _him_ pull the thread of the tapestry and unravel it.

The breakout of her father was to keep an ace up her sleeve in case, but now that she thinks about it, she couldn't have done it at a more perfect time.   

 _Can’t do it,_ The voice taunts. _Can't do it, can't do it_ -

She breathes in her mother’s quilt, taking in the cloying and comforting scent of lavender before getting up to oversee Slade moving in, or rather, settling in; _he doesn't have much to move_ , she thinks ruefully.

He's sitting on the bed looking at the photo when she stops in the doorway and he looks up. “Now what?”

Rose is lost again, fumbling in the dark after turning off the proverbial light. “I feel like there's something that's going to happen. Something I need you for.” His expectant look makes her lose words for a few seconds before regaining the line of thought. “I have savings I'll pay you with.”

Slade snorts and it hurts her in a most unexpected way. “Your lunch money can't buy my work.”

The words sting more and she snaps. “I don't think five million dollars is lunch money, but I guess we can have ARGUS settle the issue, now can't we?”

He narrows his eye at her, unperturbed by her outburst. “How do you have-”

“It is none of your business.” Rose takes a deep breath. “Five million and you have one job. It's simple, really. All you have to do is protect us.”

He quirks his eyebrow, suspicious. “What threatens you so direly?”

“A lot. I'm more worried about Zatanna than I am about me.” Rose sighs, leaning against the doorway. “Look, I can't explain everything right now. There's a lot that would be hard to handle.”

“I can handle it,” He presses. She almost caves, almost tells him, but she knows that it's a delicate situation they're in.

“But you can't,” She says quietly, almost wishing he could. “I promise that you'll know everything eventually.”

“I have two conditions, then.”

“Depending on what they are, sure.”

She's not surprised; even though he's giving up pushing for information, she knows he's biding his time, and what better time to get her to agree to something than when she's trying to change the subject. Manipulation is a Wilson game, and it's one he trained her to play with everything she had.

“I want to go back to Perth and grab some of my possessions from my house.”

It's not a request that she would ever expect from him. Sentimentality is not a trait that she attributes to him and it's something that throws her off for a second. There's something more.

“I doubt that anything that was there is still there…”

He waves his hand, dismissing her words. “I hid them well. No one will have found them.”

The thought of proving him wrong worms its way through her head, and she bites a smile when she thinks of the humor of how much fuel would be wasted just to prove him wrong. “What's the other condition?”

“You tell me at least why she's more vulnerable than you.”

Rose tilts her head, lost in thought. On one hand, it’s information that he doesn't need to know, and to indulge his curiosity so early in their relationship is bad to enable; yet on the other hand, it’s almost harmless information that is already known to people who matter most. Would it help to tell him?

“Even though she's a magician, she's still more mortal than I. I can tell when I'm in danger. I can see it happen, make it change.”

His face is like stone, eye looking down. “You saw everything while driving. You knew when to tell her to move.” Slade looks back up with scrutiny. “You can see the future.”

“I can see immediate danger,” She corrects. “Traps are still a thing, but hey, you taught me to be careful.”

They both react to the words; Rose freezes from the realization of what she's said and Slade tilts his head back, looking down his nose at her. “What do you mean?”

Panic races through her and she ignores his question. “Don't try to break out, the door’s sealed with magic.” With that, she pulls the door close, slumping against the wall as she tries to not cave under the stress. 

* * *

The feeling of something pushing against her magic alarms Zatanna for a second before she remembers who her new house guest is. The spots that crack regenerate within seconds then are left alone; as much as he wants out, he's giving in for now. The hallway creaks and Rose comes in, looking worn out. “Sit down and rest,” Zatanna chides. “ _Aet_.” With a flourish of her hand, a cup of Lady Grey conjures on the table. “You need to stop pushing so hard.”

The young woman picks up the cup, ignoring the rest of Zatanna's advice. It's still hard to think of Rose being grown up, being an adult, but Zatanna can see there's something on her shoulders that is more than just typical adult problems. “If only you knew,” Rose mutters, shaking her head sadly before drinking the tea.

Zatanna sighs, setting down the ledger to turn towards her ward. “Rose, what's going on?”

Rose smiles a bitter smile, taking a long drink of her tea before speaking. “You ever think about how we kinda have that Batman and Nightwing thing going?”

“Rose-”

“Nightrose… no, Rosewing is way better.”

“What's going to happen, Rose?”

Rose cocks a grin at Zatanna. “What replaces the Batarangs? Magician hats?”

It's no use. Zatanna slumps in her chair, letting Rose win the stalemate. Once again, Rose deflects the question, and Zatanna knows that she won't get anything out, even if she pushes the hardest she can. She's not quite sure where Rose gets her stubbornness, more than likely from both of her parents, but it's easily one of the most infuriating things that Zatanna deals with in her average day.

Zatanna is sipping her own tea when Rose looks over at her. “By the way, expect him to be shadowing you.”

Zatanna freezes, putting the cup back on the saucer and trying not to overreact. “What do you mean?” She asks, voice forcibly cold.

It doesn't affect Rose, who half-shrugs. “I hired him to protect us, mostly you.”

Zatanna whips out of her seat, stepping towards Rose with as much self control as she can muster. “You did what?”

“I hired-”

“Why?!” Zatanna forces herself to turn away, shoving waves of emotion down. “Rose, I don't need-”

A shatter turns her back; Rose is entranced with open air outside, cup broken on the ground.

“Rose?”

Rose’s hands fly up, clutching her head and leaning against the wall. A low groan spills out from her mouth, followed by a sob.

_Oh, not again._

The convulsions start, racking her entire frame, and Zatanna wraps her arms around Rose. Strings of words spew out of her mouth, some in different languages, some unintelligible. Ice moves through Zatanna’s veins as it continues. There's nothing she can do to stop it; all she can do is slide them down to the floor and hold on for dear life.

After a few minutes, the shaking calms, and Rose lifts her head up to wipe away tears from bloodshot eyes. “They've been happening more frequently. Joey’s been looking into previous records, but so far, there's been no other symptoms with anyone else.” She laughs drily, pushing sticky hair back from her forehead. “Leave it to me to touch Destiny’s Book.”

It's no laughing matter; the fact that Destiny showed up to the Titans is worrying, his message of death even worse, and Rose’s gung-ho attitude of taking his book and throwing it out the Titans’ Tower window the worst.

Of course, how could anyone know the repercussions of a precognitive metahuman touching a book containing all of what has, is, and will happen?

“I'm calling Joey in.”

“That'll cause a few problems,” Rose scoffs.

“I'll talk to him about it.” But yes, it will cause problems; after all, according to all records, the Joseph Wilson of this Earth died of gunshot wounds. As far as Slade Wilson is concerned, his son is dead.

Yet, the Joseph Wilson of Earth-3 is still very much alive.

Zatanna wonders for a split second if Slade would recognize his son from another universe and vice versa, but they'll come to that bridge when they cross it. For now, what's important is making sure Rose’s health or sanity isn't at stake, and there's no doubt Joey would agree with her. 

* * *

The comm system flashes green from his nightstand and arouses him from sleep. It flashes again and he reaches for the earpiece.

“Joey?”

He blinks, staring up at the ceiling before shrugging off the green arms wrapped around him.

“Mmh, babe…” Gar mumbles before rolling over.

Joey leans over to kiss Gar’s forehead before getting up to slip on the comm gloves. With a quick sign, he answers back.

“ _What's going on, Zee? It's five in the morning._ ”

“I know it is,” She replies sincerely. “But Rose had another attack. She told me not to call you, but-”

Joey sighs, rubbing at his forehead before signing again, cutting her off. “ _No, it's fine. I'm glad you called me._ ”

His sister is stubborn as can be about her current condition, but he's not having this anymore. The attacks are increasing in frequency, and there's no telling what more could happen. All records that he's found only promise that anyone who touches Destiny’s Book will eventually fade away into a shell, but all the victims were human, not metahuman. If anyone were to survive this, he's putting all his chips on his sister.

“There's more as well. Someone's here that… you may… recognize…”

His heart jumps to his throat; she wouldn't be so choosy with her words unless it was a sensitive issue, and there's only one issue that troubles him anymore.

With a tremor, he starts signing again. “ _He's still there with you both?_ ”

“Yes. Apparently, she's hired him to be a bodyguard of some sort. She won't tell me why, though.”

Joey rubs at his face, groaning. “ _I'll be there in a few hours. Need anything?_ ”

“Just you.”

“ _See you, then._ ”

Joey hangs up and turns to his sleeping lover. Garfield rolls back over, eyes looking up at him with a forlorn feeling. “You're leaving.”

Joey slips off the gloves and kneels on the bed, bending to kiss him. “ _I'll be back soon. If I'm gone too long, you can visit._ ” He hopes that it doesn't come to that; he hopes that the situation never arises that Gar and the Slade Wilson from this universe and this time are in the same room. Joey doesn't even know how this will turn out, doesn't even know if this Slade Wilson will look like his own did before-

Joey stops his dwelling, focusing on the task at hand. There's work to do, and he gets dressed with a swift purpose, grabbing his overnight bag. With another kiss to Garfield’s head, he leaves the room, closing the door with reluctance.

The creep along the Titan Tower halls fills him with some odd sense of guilt, yet he knows he's done nothing wrong. Maybe it's a guilt of association, knowing that Slade Wilson would be there; maybe it's a guilt of leaving his team behind, even for a couple days. When he gets to the teleporter, he sees a rather welcome face.

“Get in,” Dick Grayson says.

He does, and in the blink of an eye, they're in East Titans Tower.

“ _What are you doing here?_ ” Joey asks, though he already has a feeling he knows.

Dick gives him a sarcastic smirk. “Your sister being your sister.”

Joey nods; Grayson knows as well, and is just as confused with Rose’s plans as he is.

“ _Why did you agree to take her?_ ” Joey asks as they slink through the halls, being quiet as not to wake anyone. “ _I agreed to help her because she's my sister, but you have no reason._ ”

“Because she needs someone in her corner that isn't family.”

A flash of light blinds them both, causing them to throw up their hands to block it. “Oh, it's you two.” A click and it's gone, and Joey looks up to see who caught them, groaning when he sees her blonde hair.

Of course it’s Cassie.

“Hey, Cass. We'll just be on our way,” Dick chirps with unusual vibrancy. He grabs Joey’s wrist and pulls him along, but Cassie grabs the other one, halting them.

“Joey, does this have anything to do with her?” Cassie asks, voice failing to sound careless. She knows it too, and she rephrases the question. “Is she alright?”

Joey pulls his wrists from both of them, looking at Cassie and shaking his head before replying. “ _Don't ask for answers you don't care to hear, Cassie._ ”

“Joey, I just-”

“ _Get bent, Sandsmark, and go back to the rebound in your bedroom. Five to one, it’s some guy you met at cheerleading practice. Or maybe at the mall. Oh, what's it matter? They're rebounds! And you're a heartless bitch anyways._ ”

A gasp, nearly a hiss, and her eyes narrow to slivers. “Get out of my Tower.”

“ _Your Tower? Everyone knows that Vic runs this place and the only reason why you're in charge is because they're scared of you.”_

“Okay, we’re done!” Dick grabs underneath Joey’s armpits and drags him away, ignoring the glaring match between the two.

As soon as they leave the Tower, Dick groans. “God, I know she's been so frigid since Rose left, but you didn't need to antagonize her.” He points to the garage and Joey follows.

“ _Maybe she shouldn't have pushed Rose away so hard. Maybe she shouldn't have exiled her from the Titans._ ”

“Ooh, exiled,” Dick mocks, waving his hands. “You know how many times Damien’s been exiled? Three. Not even that, Kori’s been kicked out five separate times, and that's because Donna and her had the stupidest arguments. Exiling is like a slap on the wrist.”

“ _How is Kori, by the way?_ ”

Joey smirks as Dick grumbles. “She left to go join Jason’s stupid party of two, now three.”

“ _Someone’s bitter._ ”

“She could do a lot better than Jason, and that's all I’m saying.” After a few more steps, Dick bends down and lifts a fist-sized rock, picking up the key under it. “Back to the matter at hand. Bottom line is, I trust what Rose is doing. She wouldn't be doing any of this for superficial reason.”

“ _You really mean that?_ ”

They walk over to the tarped car and pull the cover off, revealing the dark blue Mustang underneath it. As Dick gets in, he leans forward and sighs. “I told Tim not to drive it! Did he think I wouldn't know?”

“ _Man, it's almost like Robins don't listen to instructions that are given. Didn't Bruce tell you not to drive the Batmobile when he was away on that one trip to Atlantis?”_ Joey bumps his shoulder, and Dick gives him a smile. They haven't talked like this in a while; between Joey’s work on his business and Titan work, and Dick’s work in Gotham and Blüdhaven, they simply haven't had time. Yet, despite it all, talks like these reminded Joey just how much of best friends they were.

“That's different. Everyone should get to drive the Batmobile at least once.” Dick starts the car and revs it, letting it warm up after.

“ _I haven't gotten to drive the Batmobile,_ ” Joey signs with a pout.

“What was that? Does that last sign mean ‘I whine more than Damien Wayne’?”

Joey socks Dick in the shoulder, and with a laugh, Dick shifts into drive and takes off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If y'all enjoy this, please let me know.


	3. unexpected complications

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't what anyone wanted, but it's what happened regardless.

The worst thing about this entire situation is that he's just switched one prison for another. The bed is softer, he has blankets, and the food in the mini fridge is better than pheasant, but it's still a prison.

Slade tries the doorknob for what seems like the hundredth time; it still doesn't budge.

He sits on the bed with an impatient groan, running his hands through his hair and trying to calm down. Anything to focus on, _anything_ …

Shado’s face drifts into his consciousness, once again haunting him. The bitter acid taste in his mouth is imaginary, but the feelings behind it are not. The island still haunts him, yet the anger that once consumed him is now gone when he needs it most. If anything, he feels exhausted.

The picture is still in his pocket, and he pulls it out to study Lili’s face again.

Over twenty years, and she's gone without a last goodbye. No last words, no closure, just the bittersweet smile she gave him before he snuck away into the night to head back to Australia. They both knew it could never work, and she accepted it far later than he did, but at least she accepted it. If she hadn't, Rose wouldn't exist, unless…

A thought occurs to him, a jarring idea that nearly scares him. He does the math, once, twice, even a third time, and every time he comes to the same conclusion.

Three months. Rose’s conception is within a three month window from the time of him leaving Lili. The idea makes him feel a tinge of fear; another child of his, one that he's never met before. It makes him think of Joe, and his heart feels what seems like the hundredth pang in the last few days. A wave of loneliness crashes through; everyone he ever cared for is gone or hates him now with reason, yet at the same time, there's a hope he can keep around just one other person that can possibly care for him.

The door opens and Rose pops her head in. “Do you want out?”

He folds the picture up, pocketing it before glaring up at her. “You essentially switched me prisons. Yes, I very much want _out_.”

“Then let’s go.”

Zatanna is nowhere to be seen when they step into the living space; they're completely alone. Rose flops onto the couch, turning the television on and folding an arm behind her head. “If you leave the house, don't go too far. Take this as well.”

Something is hanging from her finger and steps closer, inspecting it with scrutiny. It seems to be a cuff, slender and plain with a simple wire wrapping around it and with it, an earpiece made from the same material. “What is it?”

“A hologuise. It covers you in a hologram disguise, hence the word mashup. Don't want you getting recognized. We still have to take that chip out of your neck.”

Remembering that he's being actively tracked grates at his nerves again. “Thank you for the reminder.”

The cheeky grin on her face washes away any anger, leaving him in hollow sadness at Lilith’s ghost. “No problem. It should be programmed to be what you used to look like before, you know.” She points to her face and shrugs. “Easy to do.”

“How did you program it to look like what I was before?”

“I have ways. Well, my friends have ways.”

Slade wants to push it; what ways do her friends have, who are they, and how powerful are her connections? Yet he abstains; there's too many questions he has, and he's not going to prioritize the knowledge of where she got information over the knowledge of whether or not she's his daughter.

Does she even know?

“Anyways, the clothing store I suggest is about three blocks down. I'm sure you'll find something there.” She keeps watching the cartoons on the television, attention slipping away.

“Something like this?” He says, pulling the collar of the jacket. “Something that _fits_ me?”

For a moment, he thinks the inflection of the word passes her by, but her lips curve to the right in the slightest and he knows he's got her. “What do you mean?” She asks anyways, attempting to feign normal.

“This jacket was in that trunk. Along with these pants, along with this shirt, along with these boots. All of them fit perfectly.”

“Yeah. And?”

Slade takes a deep breath, holding an outburst. “How did you know what size I was?”

“Lucky guess.”

A brick wall would give him more information and it makes him seethe. “I'm going out,” He bites out, slipping the devices on before storming out. Zatanna comes in as he's leaving, bumping into him.

“Where are you going?” She asks, almost seeming… insulted.

“Hell would be preferable,” He mutters, turning away from her with a glare.

As he closes the door, a beep emits, followed by a small jingle. “ _Jericho 2.2 standing by._ ” There's no difference from what he can see at first, but he catches a glimpse of himself in the glass and nearly loses his breath from the sight of having both eyes.

It takes serious effort to push it out of his mind, but he presses on to look around. They're on the beginning edge of the city, but it's nothing like the warehouse; trees and fields are dotted sparsely with farmhouses in the distance. The flat itself has a staircase to the roof, vines growing down them and increasing in volume as it rises. He can see greenhouse walls when he looks up, seeing flowers and leaves pressing against the glass, pushing to be freed.

A slight wind picks up, stirring him out of his thoughts. The sign on the road points towards the shops, so he starts walking. The area is quiet, a peaceful quiet that he's never encountered before. It's… quaint, a piece of the world that seems perfect. Walking down the street feels odd at first because no one gives him a second glance, but it becomes more comfortable with each step, stress melting away.

Even without knowing the name of the store, he can tell which one she meant. There's jackets and shirts on a clearance rack outside the door and he can smell the strong scent of canvas and metal, but an underlying note hits him.

Gunpowder.

No wonder she recommended the place to him. Any place that sells guns is a store that he's apt to visit. He walks in, looking at the wares with keen eye. The woman at the counter is fixing the knife display on the wall, categorizing them by what seems to be tactical usefulness and decoration. She picks up a SOG knife and starts to place it on the useful rack.

“I don't believe that's the right place.”

She gasps and drops the knife, her entire frame freezing before she turns slowly to look at him. Her eyes dart around, looking behind him before she sighs. “Rose sent you?”

Slade tilts his head, perplexed by her reaction. “Yes…?”

The woman closes her eyes, face scrunched up with anger. “Dick told me she was doing this, but I didn't think she was this foolish.” With another sigh, she opens her eyes, looking up at him. “I guess she proved me wrong.”

“You know who I am?”

The woman glances down, picking up a knife and spinning it in her hand. “I could never forget your voice.” Everyone around him keeps saying such cryptic nonsense, and it's starting to irritate him. Both Rose and this woman act like they've met him before, as if they've had previous encounters. The woman seems to pick up on his irritation, and she shrugs her shoulders. “What do you want?”

“To buy some items,” Slade says, sarcasm on his tongue.

She smiles with as much sarcasm. “With what money?”

His hand darts for the wallet, but it's nowhere to found. He searches his jeans, even his jacket, before sighing forcefully. He'd had it back at the flat, he remembers putting Lilith’s picture back into the wallet and sticking it in his back pants pocket. He knows he had it when Rose gave him the cuff and earpiece. He didn't check at the beginning of the stairs, when he bumped into-

Fuck.

When he bumped into the fucking magician.

“Fucking woman,” He spits out, and the woman behind the counter jumps from the words. After he notices, he shakes his head. “Not you. My wallet’s gone.”

“The Zatanna initiation. I remember Jason got pissed because she took off with about three thousand dollars.” She takes a pack of cigarettes, hitting it against the palm of her hand before taking one out. “Look, I'll send you home with a couple of things. Should tide you over.”

As she starts collecting items, he takes another look around, going through a few pair of clothes and tucking them under his arm. A gray jacket catches his eyes and he further inspects it; it's made of tough canvas, having two pockets on each side at the bottom and one breastpocket on the left side. It would be handy to have around, and he looks over to the shopkeeper. She's already watching, and as soon as he looks up, she nods.

The duffle bag she hands him is moderately full, and he can't help but to chuckle. “You act like you're sending me against an army.”

“You might be fighting one.” The woman is serious, arms crossed over her chest. After a moment, she speaks up. “Do you really not know?”

“Know what?”

She gives him a onceover before snorting. “Of course not. Leave it to Rose.”

More and more cryptic bullshit. Fine, he'll play the game they've set up. “Is that all?” He asks.

The woman waves her hand, shooing him. “Yes, go. Get out of my shop.”

Her attitude pushes him away, and he leaves in a huff.

* * *

There's a car parked next to the flat, and Slade notices that Dick is sitting in the front seat, fiddling with something. As he passes, the door swings wide open. “Wilson, wait!”

He stops, turning to see what has the young man in a frenzy. Dick pulls himself out of the car, looking at the bag Slade slung over his shoulder. “Did you go down to Cass’s?”

Slade holds up his hand to his chest. “Yea tall, quiet yet snippy? Yeah, I met her.”

Dick lets out a breath. “She seem okay? Emotionally?”

Slade thinks on it, before saying “she seemed fine, a bit blunt… She seemed to know me.”

Dick almost says something but is interrupted by the sound of Rose yelling. It alarms Slade, and he ignores every word that Dick says as he bounds up the steps, pushing open the door to find-

His hair is blonde, but there's no denying who he is. His hands freeze when they make eye contact, hovering midair in...sign? They're still the same eyes; they're still a mirror of his, but he's still got Adeline’s cheeks and nose, and the lips drawn in a tight line have turned out to mirror his own.

Rose is just as frozen as they are, and Dick almost collides into Slade’s back as he races up the stairs. “Damn it,” He whispers. 

* * *

Holy shit.

There's no denying that this Slade looks exactly like his own; recognition flashes on his father’s face and Joey’s heart squeezes itself into a tight ball. He knows, they both know who the other is.

What does he say? What does he do?

His feet decide for him.

Joey runs, walls blurring as he almost collides into the workshop door, hand scrambling for the handle and ripping it open. As he shuts the door, locking it in a frenzy, Zatanna stands up. “Joey? What's wrong?”

He slumps against the door, pressing his forehead against the cool wood. Without even a pause, he starts shaking, and a sob works its way up his throat, irritating scar tissue. Zatanna pulls him to her chaise, laying him down into the pillows and tossing her throw blanket over him.

It's comforting that she is just as much a mother now as she was when she first found him.

“ _He looks the same. Why does he look the same, Zee?_ ”

She takes a deep breath, exhaling as she tousles his hair. “I'm sorry, Joey. Had I known-”

“ _It's okay. Not your fault. Just...why?_ ”

“Your universe is similar to this one, Joseph. You were born in Australia in this one as well. You knew there was a chance.”

He knew, he knows. Even if this Slade isn't as old as his Slade was, he looks exactly like he did as he grew up. A pang attacks his heart and he groans. There it is, moving underneath his skin, leaving behind nausea and a restless feeling. He rolls over, looking at her with red eyes. “ _I was hoping that it wouldn't be that similar._ ”

She smoothes his hair, parting it before kissing his forehead. “I'll turn the lights low. Get some sleep.” With a murmur, she slips a heavier blanket over him, tucking a pillow under his head.

He snuggles into the pillow; a deep breath reveals that Zatanna conjured it from Gar’s bed. She knows what he needs, as always; nothing would make him happier than seeing his boyfriend. Even though he can't have Garfield in his arms, it helps to know that there's some part of his love with him. 

* * *

“Rose. A word.”

Rose breaks eye contact away from Slade, turning to a seething Dick. “Sure,” She drawls, lazily strolling out the door and shoving past Slade.

It leaves him alone with his thoughts, thoughts that he doesn't want to be alone with. He strides over, opening the window door to the balcony and stepping out, trying his best to push out the sound of the two arguing. He notices that there's another staircase leading to the greenhouse, and he follows it up, stopping to study the numerous kinds of blooms that are growing along the vines. The door is unlocked, and the aroma of flora floods his senses quite pleasantly. There's a chair in the corner, and he pulls it over to sit next to what he knows was Lilith’s favorite flower.

He picks one, twisting it in his hand and running his thumb over the petals. As he does so, he can hear her talking about them.

 _Star-of-Bethlehem, or_ Ornithogalum _, part of the lily family. While there are many species of_ Ornithogalum _, they all have the same characteristics: white petals with green streaks, slender stem, and basal leaves._

The door creaks open, and Lili is ripped out of his mind. Zatanna steps in, looking around to survey the greenhouse. “Rose thought you took off.”

“How did you know to look here, then?”

An odd smile flits on her face for a second before she turns to tend to a orchid. “I just knew.”

He nods, letting the enigmatic words slide off him. “Where's the wallet?”

“What wallet?” Zatanna says over her shoulder, fake innocence dripping with every word.

That's it. That's fucking it. Slade can't put up with this any longer. “The wallet with my family in it.”

She freezes, hands slowly falling to her side. It's a visible difference; this is the first time she's not in full control, not cool and confidant. “Don't,” She whispers.

“I'm right, aren't I? What's her birthday?”

“February fourteenth.”

May was conception, June was when he left. Almost certainly, he was the only one she was seeing, and Zatanna’s quietness only confirms it. “So Rose _is_ my daughter.”

“You're out of Lian Yu for three days, and already you're figuring out a lot of secrets we’re keeping from you.” Zatanna turns and sighs, pulling it out with a pout. “Here.”

Slade catches the wallet, opening it to see that the money is still there and that the photo is still tucked in. The license has been replaced, instead showing his face instead of Rose’s. “What's this?”

“Your ability to do a lot more. You've got a credit card in there as well that has a limit of four hundred a month. Don't buy food, we'll have it here.” She snaps her fingers and a chair appears from nowhere, startling him. Zatanna notices, flashing her teeth before sitting. “Apologies. I thought Rose would've told you.”

“She said magician, but I thought-”

“Run of the mill magic-tricks-and-sleight-of-hand magician, right?” She smiles syrupy and sickly sweet. “You're so cute.” There's a pause and she sobers up. “Don't tell Rose you know.”

“About you?”

“No, about you two. She's scared, she doesn't want you to run off, and it's easier to think that you're a stranger she's trying to impress and not her father.”

Slade doesn't how to feel at first. Hurt that she can't be open with him? Relief that he doesn't have to act like a parent to her? Upset that she's afraid of him? The slightest bit happy that she doesn't want him to run off?

“Why so scared if she's met me before?”

Zatanna looks down, groaning and rubbing her hand across her face. “She let something slip.”

“As did Cassandra.”

Zatanna looks back up, and it's reminiscent of a mother's look of confusion. “Why do they do this?” She mutters to herself. Her eyes trail off to the side before she closes them, massaging her temple. “You have met before… rather, she's met you before.”

“But I haven't seen her before.”

“Not at this point in your life, no,” She replies, staring at him, waiting.

Granted, she only has to wait a second before he picks up what she's putting down. “Not this point in my life, but another, then. In the future.” Slade pauses, a beat passing before he speaks again. “She hasn't travelled through time according to the picture, which means… _I_ time travelled.”

Zatanna slow claps, nodding. “Yes, well done.”

“Is he still here?”

She gives him a crooked smile. “You wouldn't be guarding me if he wasn't. Not like you in the slightest.”

Slade scoffs. “Can't be that bad.”

The words wipe the smile off her face and she grows hostile, crossing her legs and folding her hands. “Really now?”

He doesn't say anything; he can't. Her voice is a dagger against his throat.

“If you're so sure you can't be ‘that bad’, I implore you to go ask Rose why her eye is missing.”

“But she has-”

Zatanna cuts him off. “A cybernetic, to blend in and to help her with various parts of her lifestyle.”

The feeling of something curling inside his stomach makes him sick, and he forces himself to ask. “How did she lose her eye?”

“You drugged her, and in her psychosis, she stabbed out her eye, saying she wanted to be like her father.”

His fingernails dig into the metal of the chair, and his breath starts to stutter as he slips through levels of anger. With a swallow, he shoves it down, and to his mild surprise, it's easier than he thought it would be. “Then why did she take me off the island?”

“If I had to guess?” Zatanna lets out a long breath. “She’d probably say that she's keeping her enemies close.”

Slade notices her hesitate. “But?”

“I think she wants another chance with you. She wants a father, she wants to see what Joey got.”

The mention of Joey is something he latches onto. “Down there-”

“Is not your son.”

 _Why would it be?_ floats through his head with venom.

“That Joseph Wilson is from another universe. He decided to come to this one, and that's all you need to know.”

“But he looks-” Slade starts to argue.

“I know,” She snaps. After a second, she realizes it and she sighs. “I'm sorry. I know. It's hard for him too.” They go quiet, looking away from each other in somber silence. “Look,” She speaks up after what feels like an eternity. “If you decide to take Rose’s job, I'll tell you everything eventually. Not all at once, nor when you want to know. I decide when, but eventually, you will know everything.”

“She's already paying money.” He leans back, spinning the flower by the stem. “Why are you sweetening the pot?”

“I have my reasons. Maybe I just want to see her be happy with her choices.”

“And if you can't tell me everything? If you die?”

Zatanna smiles again, this time impish. “Well, I guess you're going to have to keep me alive, then. You start tomorrow.”

“Something special about tomorrow?”

The sunlight comes out from behind a cloud, haloing her frame in an ethereal glow as she smiles brighter. It slams a sense of acceptance into him; he’s officially in uncharted waters, and all he can do is wade and try to find some kind of footing. “I take over my father’s company.”


	4. two sides of an unfamiliar coin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's so interesting that two sides of a coin can be so similar yet so different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *stares at arrow season five and six with both appreciation and disdain*

“...and with that, I open the floor to any questions.” The reporters stand, calm as they each raise a hand. Zatanna looks around, studying each face before picking a rather young reporter. “Yes?”

“There is rumor that some of the people on your father’s board are questioning of your control of the company. How would you answer to that?”

A good question, one she prepared for. “If that is true, than that is rather disappointing. Growing up in Gotham means you learn business, and I know it just as well as magic tricks.” The crowd laughs, and she smiles. “All jokes aside, if they have doubts, I aim to prove them wrong. Next question.”

A young man shoots up his hand before anyone else, and it makes her curious as she nods to him. “What of your connections to Wayne Enterprises?”

“While I am on very good terms with Bruce Wayne, my business is my business and will stay that way. I have no intention of letting Wayne Enterprises and Zatara Incorporated merge.”

Joey cuts in by her shoulder, raising his hand. “Apologies, but that's all the time we have for questions. Ms. Zatara has a meeting to attend to,” He says. If she didn't know it, she'd never believe that his voice was being synthesized.

They turn away from the podium, walking behind the veil and towards the elevator. Zatanna disconnects the microphone and turns to him. “You ready?”

“ _I was born ready,_ ” He signs, stepping in with her. “ _You going to be okay?_ ”

“He's been missing for a while, Joey. I knew the time was coming. I'm just glad I have you with me.”

“ _CFO of Zatara Incorporated. I like to think your cousin is in stitches right now. Can't believe you talked me into this.”_ Joey straightens himself. He's dressed as professional as possible; he has the waistcoat and dress shirt on, his tie matching the accent on his belt. The only thing he's missing is his suit jacket, but he still commands power from his posture, from the air around him.

Zatanna doesn't know whether to attribute his demeanor to herself or his father; nevertheless, she's relieved that she has him as her right hand man. While young, Joey is knowledgeable in business, even more than her, and she knows that he’ll help her through.

They step into the spacious office, the window giving them a full view of East City. Joey steps up to the window, looking out at the skyscrapers. “ _I don't see him_.”

“He's there. I felt him out earlier; he's on top of the parking structure, but he's concealed himself.” Zatanna sits down, taking a deep breath before digging into paperwork.

Joey turns his wrist over, pulling up the satellite through Fractal. “ _That, he is. I'm shocked. Thought he would bail out._ ”

Fractal is his star jewel, countless hours in coding software and hacking to give him access to as much as he can see as possible. If he can possess people with just eye contact, why not possess technology? It's been a hellride trying to toe the line of necessity; every security camera, every computer at his fingertips, the temptation to find out anything he wanted within his reach at any moment. Joey trails over to what Zatanna has on her body; her phone and an earpiece. The earpiece is hooked to another, and he follows the signature to the parking garage; they may be in contact, but right now, Zatanna has communications on mute. “ _Don't want him listening to us?_ ”

“I figured you didn't want him to.” She knows him well. “He knows about Rose,” Zatanna admits, resting her chin on her hand. “He did the math, figured it out.”

Joey turns, staring at her as he tries to process everything. “ _How did he react?_ ”

“Surprisingly protective. He seemed upset when I told him about her eye.”

Joey exhales loudly, and Zatanna turns to see him rolling his neck. “ _I guess we'll see how this goes._ ”

The thoughts are visible on his face, and she stands, walking over to clasp his shoulder. “She knows what she's doing.”

“ _Do you really believe that?_ ”

Her eyes dart over to the parking structure, staring a hole through the hologuise. “I have to.”

* * *

As Zatanna leaves the building, Slade prepares to follow, trailing down the parking garage before seeing her turn on the block.

“Next time, tell me where you're going,” He growls into the earpiece, taking off towards her direction.

“Don't tell me what to do,” She retorts. After a few seconds of walking, Zatanna sighs. “I have to stop by this bakery. You… do whatever you need to do.”

He sees her turn into the store and he crosses to be more discreet, leaning against a building as he watches her through the bakery window. The bag she comes out with is packed, boxes pushing against the paper.

They start walking back to the garage again before Zatanna asks, “Do you need anything?”

“No,” Slade replies curtly.

He changes the hologuise, turning completely invisible and scaling the wall up to her car, checking for traps before sliding into the backseat after making sure no one is looking. A few minutes later, Zatanna gets in. “Well, how was your first day at work?” Slade ignores her, waiting for her to get the message. She does, sighing before pulling out of the garage. “If we're going to work together-”

“There is no working together,” He cuts her off with. “There is no work your manicured hands need to do, just sit there and look pretty.”

The brakes slam, and so does his face into the back of her car seat. It doesn't hurt, but it sure as hell surprises him, and he pulls himself from the floor to look up. A shiver runs down his spine as he sees her glare, eyes screaming murder as she slowly blinks. “Sorry, traffic is terrible around here.”

They're quiet for the rest of the car ride home, the air filled with static tension. When they park, she sits there, staring at the wall of her garage. He exits the car, slamming the door shut before going up the stairs, passing the apartment and heading to the greenhouse. The temptation to ruin everything is a fleeting thought, passing only for a second before he dismisses it.

The door opens, and he's about to pop off when he sees Joey standing there. “Not the first place I’d expect you to come to.”

Slade raises his eyebrows as Joey ‘talks’. Had he not been signing before, then? Joey notices and waves his hand, switching off something attached to his neck. “ _Sorry, have to use it when I'm at the office, it reads my speech and thought patterns. I'm more used to sign to speech, and Zee’s been on my ass saying she doesn't mind, but I'd rather not have anyone undermine her for having a mute CFO._ ”

“So you are mute.”

“ _Yeah, Zee told you about that whole ‘from another universe’ thing? Events change from one to another, and outcomes are way different._ ” Joey pulls over a chair, sitting lazily in it. “ _That one, I was mute, and this one, I just happen to be dead._ ”

The words hit too close to home, and Slade looks down to run a petal from a lilac between his fingers. “I don't know what you expect me to say to that. ‘Sorry’ doesn't fix anything.”

“ _It's not like I'm the one you killed. Well, sort of_ .” Joey nods, tilting back on the chair and looking at his hands. “ _I'll tell you how it happened if you tell me what happened._ ”

The petal snaps off from his anger, and Slade closes his eye. “Why in the hell would I tell you that?”

“ _Because I know you. I know you're curious. The only other way you'd ever find out is through Zatanna, and from the way she was flying to her lab in a rage, I presume you're not on the best terms right now. Plus, it might help to talk about it._ ”

Slade regards Joey with a thoughtful mind. He looks exactly like Slade pictured him as grown up many times. There's a heavy influence of his own words, his own diplomacy, in Joey’s, and he can't help but admit to himself that he is curious. “Fine. But I'll never say it again.”

“ _You first, then._ ”

Slade gives Joey a bitter half smile. “Don't trust me?” Joey shrugs and Slade nods. “Fair enough.” He looks at the petal between his fingers, watching it fall as he lets go. “How much do you know of what happened to me?”

“ _Not much. Just that you tried to kill Oliver Queen for some reason._ ”

“It...wasn't for some reason.” Slade pauses, thinking over where to start, finally choosing the beginning.

* * *

 _We were given a mission, Wintergreen and I. You know Wintergreen? ...okay, maybe not this Wintergreen. This one was William DaForge’s half-brother, who- Yes,_ that _DaForge… yes, pretentious is definitely the word I would use. Anyways, we were given the mission right after I gave your mo-sorry, after I gave Adeline the divorce papers. Why are you laughing… okay, I'll continue. I was desperate to get out, so I took whatever I got. We were supposed to figure out what a mercenary named Fyers was doing and extract a man named Yao Fei off of Lian Yu. He had been exiled on the island due to the Chinese government using him as a fall man for a massacre. Our plane was shot down over the island, and when we crashed, we were taken prisoner. They offered for us to join them. Wintergreen said yes, I declined. I don't like mercenary work that much… yes, I understand the humor._

_Yao Fei broke me out and we ran, finding coverage in the wreckage of the plane. ...see, that's what we thought too, and it actually worked; they never thought to look in the wreckage. Yao Fei and I planned out taking a supply plane off of the island, but Yao Fei was found out, and we had to split._

_I didn't know what became of him until Oliver came waltzing into the wreckage._

_Surprisingly, he proved he could survive the island from what little Yao Fei had taught him, so I tried training him, tried being the operative word._

_After a few days, we_ had _to try to take the supply plane. There wouldn't be another one for three months, and we wouldn't be able to survive that long. We managed to take it, gave them the pass code. Oliver wanted to go rescue Yao Fei, I just wanted to go home and drop hellfire on that island. I told him that if he didn't show up in time, I'd leave without him. Obviously, that didn't happen. I went after him, ended up fighting Wintergreen and killing him. I got a bullet to the shoulder by Fyers, Oliver pulled me out, and we ended up missing the plane. The wound got infected, but the kid found something that Yao Fei had given him to help. After that, it felt like a waiting game. Oliver thought he could get the radio to work, and once again, defied my expectations and actually succeeded. I was able to tune us into the frequency Fyers was using, found out that he was bringing something in. It turned out to be an antiaircraft missile launcher, and we didn't know anything except that it could easily start a war. Oliver stole the motherboard and we decided to use it as leverage. We contacted Fyers and told him we wanted a way off the island. We met up and Fyers one-upped us, bringing in Yao Fei’s daughter…_

_...God, it's been so long._

_Her name was Shado. Either we gave up the motherboard or he killed her. She managed to surprise everyone, fighting back and knocking out quite a few people before we ran. Yao Fei was shot on the way out, and we had to leave him behind. Found out that it'd been all a distraction; Fyers had his men search the forest and they found the motherboard._

_Shado took it upon herself to train Oliver, and he began to take up archery. Before we could even come up with a plan, Yao Fei showed up, and so did the rest of Fyers’ men. He had sold us out, but for good reason; if he hadn't, Fyers would've firebombed the whole forest._

_That's when we found out exactly what Fyers was planning. There was a commercial airliner passing over, and if shot down, it would've closed down all economy in China indefinitely. Yao Fei was to be the scapegoat, due to his previous issue with the Chinese government. We didn't know who hired him, but we knew we had to stop him, even if we were tied up. Yao Fei refused at first, and so Fyers had one of his men hit Shado, then Fyers shot me in the leg. ...yes, again, I know. He liked shooting me, apparently._

_Oliver had a knife hidden, and he was slowly working at the rope. Yao Fei agreed to the taping of his ‘confession’, only for Fyers to shoot him in the head as soon as he was done. As soon as it happened, Oliver broke free, and we charged. He cut my ropes and I grabbed a gun, giving cover fire as Oliver and Shado ran off to stop the missile launcher._

_We all got separated, and after everyone had scattered, I had passed out from the bullet wound. When I came to, it was night and Oliver was trying to find us. Fyers dragged Shado with him, holding a gun to her head. Oliver aimed his arrow and shot Fyers right in the chest._

_That… that was a good night._

_We survived for another five months. We worked together, Oliver and Shado grew… close. Very close… it wasn't jealousy, it was… I knew what Oliver was as far as relationships were, and I knew he hadn't told Shado anything about Laurel and Sara- ahh, yes. Laurel was his sweetheart back home, and Sara was her sister that had been with him when the boat was sunk. All the same, I wasn't going to intervene as it was none of my business… yes, okay, I did love her. Don't ask me anymore about it._

_We had set up a proximity alarm, and one day, it went off. There were men with guns, and so we went after them. Shado split so she could circle back around and make sure they weren't going to ambush us from behind. Oliver and I heard her scream, and when we got to where she had been, all that was there was her hood. We tracked them until the night, and I was going to have us wait until we could take advantage of the situation, but they took a knife to Shado’s throat and Oliver rushed in. He… lost himself for a second but Shado brought him back thankfully._

_Oliver and I decided to track down where they had come from. As soon as we found the freighter, they had found our plane, and we took off running towards it. Well, Oliver took off, I followed and tried to make him stop and plan something out._

_I got half my face burnt off during the bombing. It's not something I suggest. Shado found me afterwards; they had taken Oliver prisoner. It was going to be a slow and painful death, but hell if I wasn't going to get him out of there._

_...Ivo was his name. The man behind all of it. He was looking for graves, looking for a serum. ...yes, mirakuru. A name that leaves a bitterness on the tongue. He happened to have rescued Sara as well, and she sided with him throughout the whole ordeal, convinced he was going to save the human race with the mirakuru._

_They tricked Oliver into confirming that we were still alive. He brought them to the plane, called out for us to run, and they riddled the plane with bullets. The group had also left a time bomb, and Shado disabled it. We took off after Oliver, and it was once again another showdown with a hostage._

_Shado proposed that if they gave us back Oliver, they were free to look around without any interference. Ivo had him cut loose, but Oliver was still attached to Sara, so as soon as he was loose, he threw a punch. It was enough of a surprise that Shado and I were able to lay down cover fire as he grabbed Sara and ran. We used the bomb from earlier to stop them, and we ended up being able to outrun them._

_Sara told Oliver what Ivo was after, and all Oliver could be concerned with was helping me. My health was declining fast, and so we made our way to the submarine. We found the mirakuru, and it was a chance of staying alive or a definite death. Took my only chance. It shut down everything; I may have even died for a few minutes. I'll probably never know._

_...no, what I have in me right now is a very different serum. Heavily modified mirakuru. Doesn't muck around with emotions._

_When I awoke, I ran. Ran as fast as I could, and when I found them, I threw them around. Even pulled out someone's heart… I didn't take you for one to be in awe of something like that… I guess it is a bit impressive._

_Shado… Shado was dead before I even got there. I asked Oliver what happened. Sara told me Ivo had shot her for no reason at all. And that's where the lies started._

_Maybe if they hadn't lied, everything could've gone better. Maybe all of it wouldn't have happened. I guess we'll never know._

_I vowed vengeance, as one does. There were a few times where I lost all control. Oliver promised to stay with me through it.  Mirakuru isn't the kindest to emotions and words, but it helped to know there was someone there to help me. I wanted to blow up the freighter, but it would've killed our only chance of getting off the island._

_We planned out how to take the freighter itself. Oliver and Sara wanted to burn the mirakuru. I wanted to keep it, so I hid it and we burned a box full of dirt._

_Oliver was a distraction as Sara and I parachuted down to the freighter. Oliver fooled them into going to the engine room, and I made my way to the bridge. That's where I found out through Oliver and Ivo talking what truly happened when Shado died. Looking back now, if I hadn't been so angry, so full of rage, I wouldn't have reacted the way I did._

_But I reacted the way I did. I attacked him and pulled him back on the ship just as he was about to escape. In the aftermath, I found out that the engine was damaged and I had accidentally decapitated the engineer… yes, it was an accident. Had I known, I would've kept him alive._

_There was another engineer, one that had escaped back to the island with Sara. I used Oliver as a bargaining chip… you don't want to hear this. ...are you sure? ...I used shock torture on him. Gave him six milliamps and told Sara that seven would kill him. While she deliberated on her side, I gave Oliver the same tattoo that Shado wore. When Sara told me that she would trade, I brought Oliver on the island. TNT powder has a distinct smell, and it permeated off the engineer. She had tried to kill me, and I ripped open her makeshift bomb. Shado was there, an evil ghost in my mind, spitting acid into my words, and I threatened Oliver’s family with sure death before leaving._

_As I had the engine repaired, they were figuring out a way to move the submarine. We took Sara, so Oliver snuck aboard the ship and broke her out. He stayed behind to try to find the cure for mirakuru… I don't… I don't have words for it._

_We captured them, made him watch as I tried over and again to use mirakuru on prisoners. It was Oliver’s words versus Shado’s venom, and the venom won out. As I was about to kill him, a torpedo hit from the submarine. The room we were in was flooding quick, and before I could stop him, he threw the rest of the mirakuru into a fire. I lunged at him, throwing him against a wall. Sara tried to stop me but I shoved her into the water, and she slipped away screaming for Oliver._

_He got up, and we started fighting again. I had the upper hand because of the mirakuru, but I was pinned by metal scrap falling. He had an arrow in one hand and the cure in the other, and I kept goading him, telling him how I'd kill his family, how I'd kill Laurel._

_By my eyepatch, you can tell how that went._

_I woke up drowning and I barely made it to the beach. I pulled whatever was left of the arrow out of my eye and made my way inland. I couldn't find Oliver anywhere, and so I planned on how I would leave the island. Before I left, I visited Shado’s grave, and she appeared before me again, snake biting at my mind again._

_I swam, quite literally and unfortunately, right into a typhoon. It pushed me under, rock and coral tore into my skin to the bone, and the mirakuru kept regenerating it back. Absolute hell. I slowly lost the strength to fight… and then I saw a vision of you, and I found strength again._

_After the storm died down, I found a small island. Old man let me use his radio and I called in to ASIS._

_I was brought in, debriefed on what happened. I lied to DeFarge, told him Billy died from Fyers, kept Oliver’s identity hidden, if only to search for him myself. They took blood samples, which worried me. There were a lot of wounds that weren't healing, and I survived a direct bullet to the chest back on the freighter._

_I… came home to you. And you were so happy to see me. Adeline, less so. She was more relieved. After being gone for two and a half years, everyone had thought me dead. I declined going back into the field; I wanted to stay close to home, close to you._

_Everything returned to something somewhat normal. There were a few times that I thought Oliver was alive, but slowly I was able to make peace with the idea of the island being behind me. If only it had stayed that way. You see, mirakuru can replicate itself, even if there's just one cell left. It just needs time._

_It had two years to build up._

_It grew, it festered. I started seeing hallucinations of Oliver here and there, and a photo from Hong Kong nearly proved he was still alive. DeForge knew what I was doing, called me out on it. I tried my best to push the thought away, but I found a box with Lian Yu records in it. One of the items was a flash drive._

_It had Shado on it._

_Once again, the snake slithered in, biting in to take hold once more._

_I became irritable, sullen. DeForge had sent people to Lian Yu, to figure out the truth, and he came to the house with full intent of taking me in, dead or alive._

_That was when the broadcast for Oliver Queen’s return came._

_I wanted to leave, DeForge wanted to take me. I refused, and it turned into the worst bloodbath… must I tell you? ...fine. Adeline was caught in the temple by a stray bullet from one of the other soldiers, and she was dead before she hit the ground. DeFarge and I kept up the firefight, and finally, I shot him five times in the chest._

_You… you were behind him._

_I blamed Oliver for so long, but I can't hide behind it anymore. It's my fault and my fault alone you died, and I think that is the one regret that will stay with me until I die._

* * *

When Slade finishes, he's surprised to see Joey still there, calmly regarding and processing the words. “ _Thank you._ ” With a sigh, Joey sits forward, giving Slade a smile. “ _It means a lot to me that you were willing to tell the whole thing._ ” A few seconds pass and after Joey takes a deep breath, he nods. “ _Okay. Now my side._ ”

* * *

 _I laughed because she was the one who served_ you _divorce papers._

_You never went to Lian Yu. The government did their own experimenting on you. They discharged you after you disobeyed orders to leave Wintergreen behind; instead you rescued him from the suicide mission a colonel sent him on because of a grudge. It surprises me that he's so different in this universe, so willing to betray you. Anyways, whatever they pumped you full of, it didn't make you as...angry as mirakuru did here. You actually were pretty level headed; I imagine the same as you are now. After that, you started taking contracts, started being a mercenary, and I rarely saw you around and didn't really know what was going on. Though, to give you credit, when I did see you, you at least asked what I was doing. You asked about my painting, the songs I wrote… sorry, I'm reminiscing; I'll continue. Eventually, you pissed off the wrong guy, killed some government official, and they sent this other mercenary, the Jackal, to come after you. I was twelve at the time. He held me hostage and that's when the dime dropped about your mercenary work. Mom… well, I'll get to her. You refused to tell him who hired you to take out the suit, saying something about a code of ethics or some bullshit. You told me after that you were relying on your speed to save me, which you did, but I didn't come out of it unscathed. Here, I'll show you, my dress shirt is covering it… yeah, I know, not pretty. Totally tore up my vocal cords. My singing career is shot… right, not funny. I'm sorry, I'll continue._

_But yeah, you killed the Jackal. And as I was bleeding out on the floor and ruining Mom’s carpet, you tried your best to patch it up quick enough to get help. Would've helped if Mom hadn't shot you in the eye… I mean, if that didn't spell out divorce, I don't know what would. She left with me and Grant and took off- what do you mean, who's Grant? ...am I really your only son here? Interesting._

_Anyways, Mom had me work with her on spy stuff, investigation, and that's when I found out about my powers. It was weird possessing someone at first… yeah, somehow, whatever experimenting they did on you affected you on a genetic level and now I can possess people and do small energy attacks. I know, super weird. I joined the Titans later on. You had a vendetta against them because Grant took a contract to kill them and he died while doing it and you blamed them… but yeah, you had a mole on the inside. Her name was Tara. She was… nice, or rather, she was nice when you weren't manipulating her. What? ...oh, imagine… imagine what Oliver Queen does as far as vigilantism goes, but teenagers and lots of them with superpowers. ...yes, it is very much a clusterfuck at times. Dick runs the one on the West Coast… don't give me that look, I know that smug look._

_Mom found out what you were plotting, she sent me in, and I stopped you. Rather,  you stopped after I stepped in. I stayed on with the Titans and it was… nice to have a family with them. Once in awhile, you'd call, and I'd have to shut the door quick, but you still asked what I made lately, asked who I was on good terms with, didn't pry when I said I didn't want to talk about it. You never asked what their weaknesses were, you never asked what we were up to, what we knew. You rarely ever made an effort to attack, and when you did, it was so easy to stop you. I think… I think you did it only because of the contract you took. You were toeing the line so you honored your code, but you also made it so I was happy. ...I never appreciated more than I do now._

_But that's not the main question you have, right? ...really? ...excuse my disbelief, I never expected you to care. ...right, what happened._

_It was the first time you came to the Tower without any meaning of hostility. Mom showed up at the same time, fuming when she saw you. You both started arguing over me, but no one was too worried; Dick, well, that Dick, was laughing his ass off from his room. But…_

_...do you know what it's like to be attacked by demons?_

_No. No, I didn't think so._

_The ones I'm familiar with are terrifying. Claws as long as hunting knives, palms as big as plates. They ripped through bone and skin like it was nothing. There was nothing anyone could do except throw up shields and divert them as much as possible. All the Titans came to fight, but it wasn't any help… Why was this happening? Well, you see, you haven't met her yet, you might. Her name is Rachel, known as Raven as well. Her father, Trigon, is, like, a demon king and he wanted to take over the world, and we were the only ones who really stood in his way. He liked possessing people, too… he ended up possessing you._

_...I don't think I've ever felt panic more than I did in that very moment. I tried fighting my way in, tried possessing you, and I could feel both of us in absolute agony with even_ touching _a demon king’s soul. You… damn it, fuck… you took your gun, right to your head. Both Trigon and I fought for control for your hand, both of us tried stopping it. Him, because he didn't want to be trapped in a corpse. Me, because… I didn't want to lose you again._

_But you still had more control than either of us._

_...I think that's one of the closest ways of experiencing death._

_Everything was gone. The Tower was a wreck, everyone I loved was gone. You were gone, Mom had been shredded to pieces… that haunted me for months. Only one person survived. Bart found me under debris, woke me up, ran me out of there. Everything around us was a hellscape, and we didn't have any hope left._

_Then Zatanna arrived._

_She was in a spaceship… yes, a spaceship, don't give me that look. She brought us in, sat us down, made sure we were comfortable. People tried asking us all these questions and when it overwhelmed us, she pushed them out. She asked if we wanted to leave. Bart asked how likely it was that everything could be fixed._

_I don't think anyone could ever fully describe the heartbreak on her face when she told him it never could be fixed._

_I asked if there was somewhere else we could go, somewhere we could start anew. She said there was._

_And so now I'm here._

* * *

It hurts to see the trails of tears on Joey’s cheeks, and he sniffs before wiping his face. “ _Sorry_.”

“Don't be.” Slade can see the scars Joey carries, both physical and emotional, how raw they still are. “How long has it been?”

“ _Nine years. A very lonely nine years. I didn't have a chance to meet Rose for a long time until she broke herself away._ ”

“What do you mean?”

Despite his red eyes and tears, Joey smiles beneath it all. “ _Now, now. All questions will be answered in due time, as I'm to understand it.”_ Slade rolls his eye and Joey’s smile grows bigger. “ _I promise it's worth it. ...I know there's a lot between you and I, a lot of awkwardness, a lot of confusion. I think if we focus on what's important, we'll be alright._ ”

“And that would be Zatanna?”

“ _As well as your daughter. My sister. Same difference. I know you know._ ” Joey shrugs, folding his arms. “ _Rose isn't doing as good as she seems, but right now, it's best to listen to her until we know more._ ”

“I can't just sit around and wait-”

Joey raises his hand, stopping him. “ _You and I will be working together on this. What I ask of you, you will follow. I don't want questions, and I won't give answers until I know everything. Right now, I just want you to be patient. Following Zee around is the best use of your energy at this time. I_ know _it's hard for you, trust me. I know._ ”

Slade stares at Joey, stares at the man his son could've grown into. Joey stares back, eyes nearly begging him. It's pulling at strings in his heart that haven't been touched in years, and he swallows thickly. “Okay, fine.”

“ _Good. Now go apologize to Zatanna. Don't give me that look, I heard what you said to her, and trust me, she could have you begging on your knees for forgiveness._ ”

“Then why doesn't she?” Slade snarks.

“ _She's too good of a person. She'll always be too good of a person._ ”

Slade sighs, thinking for a bit. He looks around the greenhouse before picking purple hyacinths and white roses, ignoring the slight shade of red that he feels creeping up his neck. Joey watches him with fascination as he makes it into a small bouquet. “ _Where did you learn that?_ ”

Slade’s lips quirk upwards for a split second. “Lilith taught me a lot about flowers. It's always stuck with me. It's one of the only things I have left of her. Purple hyacinths whenever she insulted me, white roses when she wanted peace.” He's about to leave when he stills; something occurs to him that didn't before. “You're the one sending the feedback loop.”

Joey gives him a lopsided grin. “ _I am. I also worked on the hologuise you use. The same thing that helps me ‘talk’ also helps Cassandra ‘talk’._ ” He laughs when Slade raises his brow in surprise. “ _Why do you ask?_ ”

“Why were you surprised when you saw me then?”

Joey's eyebrows shoot up; it's not a question he was expecting to be asked. He looks away, pondering before nodding. “ _You deserve that answer… I was hoping that if you didn't look the same, I could let go easier and keep my demons at rest._ ”

“But I do.”

Joey lets out something akin to a laugh. “ _But you do._ ” He waves Slade away. “ _Go. I'll drop you off something later._ ”

* * *

It's getting to the point where her eyelids are drooping, but her mind won't stop, can't stop, it's on a roll. She keeps scratching away at papers, going over finances and documents. The Titans are well off still; all of the expenses are paid by either small businesses the Titans themselves have set up or by funds set up by other vigilantes.

Like Batman.

Like Bruce.

Zatanna groans, leaning her head against her hand. She hasn't told him, still lost for words to explain why Slade Wilson was staying in her loft. She knows how he feels about Rose, that he pities her and thinks she needs some kind of hospitalization. Sure, even before Destiny’s Book, Rose showed some instability, but it’s never been a problem of danger, just a lack of social interaction. There's something to Rose that Zatanna can't quite put her finger on as of late, though; something she’s hiding underneath, and Zatanna fears that when it breaks surface, it won’t be pleasant. Nonetheless, she could never demand Rose to do something against her will; she’s had enough of that for a lifetime.

The door opens, and she looks up to see Slade holding something to his side. “What are you doing here?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Are you alright?”

Damn. She's so tired, too tired for him to start being a decent human being right now; she'd rather be able to enjoy it later. “'m fine.” Ahh, her words are slurring. No wonder he's asking. She groans again, leaning back and covering her face with both hands. “‘m tired.”

He tosses whatever he has on the desk, instead pulling her up out of her chair. “You haven't slept in a while,” He notes.

She shakes her head.

“How long?”

She flashes two fingers.

His eye widens in disbelief. “Two days?” She nods, losing her balance and nearly falling over. He catches her just in time, wrapping her arm around him. “Jesus, alright, come on.”

They start walking; well, staggering is more accurate. She feels heavy, and she leans more into him. “‘m sorry.”

He makes an affirmative sound before opening the door. “Which way?”

She points left, and he guides her down the unfamiliar hallway. At the end, she steers him towards the right, pushing the door open. “Here,” She breathes, and the second she's in reach of her bed, she collapses on it. “Mm, good.” She hears his footsteps towards the door and whines. “Don't go.”

They stop and she hears him sigh. “Why?”

She sits up, steadying herself. “I need light.”

With a grumble, he flips the switch and orbs all around them form into small light. “Better,” She yawns before stretching out. “ _Samajap_.”

Her blouse and slack melt away into loose pajamas and Zatanna slips under the covers, desperate for another layer of separation between her and Slade. She looks up to see him looking through a spellbook she had left on her TV stand.

“What is this book?” He asks, still looking over the pages.

“It's a Greek index of rare herbs and what they do.”

Slade turns, still looking through the book. “This is interesting. I've never seen most of these before.”

“Some are extinct. Some aren't anymore because of cultivation in some communities. Some are grown in places known to only few mundane.”

“And what are their purposes?”

Zatanna hesitates. She wants distance, but at the same time, she never gets asked questions about magic. “...here, bring it over.” When he does, she flips through the pages until she finds the one she wants. “Venleaf has properties that when mixed with the right things, it'll make you weightless. By itself, it's a good sleep aid because of that attribute.” She rifles to another page, sliding her finger around the spiraling leaf.  “This is root of Fenris. It wards off lycanthropy and can make werewolves sick when consumed.”

Slade snorts. “There's no such thing as-”

“Werewolves? One of my best friends is a werewolf. I imagine you'll meet him one of these days.” The incredulous look on his face makes her laugh. “I conjured a chair out of thin air, and you doubt the existence of werewolves?”

“I'm not one to be surprised, and I've had a week where I've been nothing but surprised. Give me a little leeway.” Slade stands there, thinking. “How long does this situation of ours last?”

“Until I'm guaranteed safe, according to Rose. So, in other words, when the other Deathstroke is gone, whether it be him returning to his own timeline or…”

“Or dead,” He finishes for her. “You can say dead.”

She yawns again, covering her mouth before blinking at him. “You seem rather comfortable when talking about killing yourself.”

“I have to be if I'm to complete this contract.”

“You haven't signed anything,” She says, sleep deprivation loosening her filter. “You technically still have the chance to decline.”

“And go back to Lian Yu? Not likely.” Slade takes the book out of her hands, getting up to put it back on the stand. “Are you going to be okay?”

Zatanna shrugs, leaning back. “I just need sleep. When do you want to go to Perth?”

“I'd rather do it soon.”

“Tomorrow, then. Pack a bag.” She lays down and pulls the covers over herself, listening as he leaves.

He's an odd one; she'll definitely give him credit for that. Before, she didn't think he'd take this job seriously, but he seems to be accepting it, even if a little bit begrudgingly. She's curious about what he brought into her study, but she has to sleep, she needs to sleep.

When she closes her eyes, she feels just the littlest bit safer.

* * *

Slade goes back to his room, surprised to see a small box sitting on his bed. A note rests on top and he picks it up to read it.

 

_Went to bed early. I need all the rest I can get to help Z out with her company. This here is my pride and joy. It will work with your hologuise and more. You'll figure out what it does as you use it. Ask me any questions you may have._

_Also, I know it will be hard for us to work together, but I do hope we eventually find a way to make it easier._

_-Joey_

 

He exhales before tucking the note into his wallet. Opening the box reveals a sort of smartwatch, and as soon as he picks it up, it flashes on with a fingerprint on the screen. Pressing his finger to the screen makes it react, flashing and making a beeping sound. A hologram screen pulls up and asks for a new password. Slade thinks for a long second before inputting ‘0rnithogalum’. A loading icon circles the screen before showing a desktop that's deep purple with a ripple effect.

The icon for search is an eye, black sclera with a green iris. He taps it and a text bar opens, pulsing dimly. What does it search? Does it hold Joey's notes on him?

Slade types in his own name, curious to read.

An entire life appears before him and he can remember every part of it. There's really old photos in here, and one of them catches his eye. Lili’s hair is tied back, sundress flowing around her ankles, and he can nearly smell the street vendors selling popcorn and hot dogs as they head towards the Ferris wheel. It crushes his heart just a little bit, and he touches the picture, if only to get even a fraction of closure. It brings up a menu: save, trace, set as background, set as item. The second and fourth options confuse him, so he selects ‘trace’. As soon as he does, everything but the picture fades away, and it branches off into a new item, marked as a journal of some kind labeled ‘New York Fair, 1994’. The contents contain pictures and articles related to the fair, and the picture of him and Lili has a shiny silver frame.

Joey clearly understated the ‘and more’ part of his letter.

Slade goes back to the photo, highlighting ‘set as item’ instead. The desktop background pulls up, and the picture shows frames and filters. He keeps it plain, setting it in the corner against the background. Confirmation sends him back to his search, and another photo sends more emotion throughout him. Ice cream is smeared along a three-year-old Joe’s cheeks, complementing the proud grin he wears. Adeline is searching her bag, clearly in distress, while Slade is trying to hold back a laugh at his son.

He saves it as an item as well, framing it next to the picture of the fair. Exhaustion is seeping into his bones, and that's enough nostalgia for today.

He sets the watch down on the nightstand, pulling the covers over himself as if they're a shield against any more pain.

When he sleeps, it's dreamless and peaceful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *furiously writing with a middle finger to arrow*  
> fuck you slade can't take the easy way out and y'all a bunch of wimps for not keeping arrow:vengeance so i'm gonna keep seasons one thru four along with seasons one and two of legends of tomorrow and y'all can continue with letting slade get away with murder
> 
> ...thank you for remembering joey wilson, though, even if you did make him a government agent


	5. haunted by the ghost of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some things, even if gone from this world completely, are never really dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE I SWEAR

“I never took you for one to wear color.”

Slade’s words in her ear take her back a little, and she stops talking to the room for a moment before closing her eyes. “Apologies, I just remembered something.” Zatanna doesn't think she's wearing that much color; her top is white, and her skirt is black and purple chevrons. She shakes off the distraction, and when she opens her eyes, the board is looking at her expectantly. “There is the possibility of opening another branch.”

“And where do you expect it's going to open, Zatanna?”

Jack Benedict is her worst enemy when it comes to business, not to mention rude and insulting. It's been a headache in the last month since she started the process of taking over the company, and she's never seen Joey closer to actually throwing a punch than when Benedict opens his mouth.

Joey himself comes to her rescue. “Ms. Zatara was planning on building-”

“Thank you, Mr. Kane, but I was talking to Zatanna,” Benedict says coolly.

Zatanna grips the pen between her fingeres tightly, and the sound that vibrates from the earpiece makes her eyebrows slightly.

_Was that a growl?_

“I was planning on building in Star City.” A low murmur settles on the room, and she raises her hands to settle them. “I know that Ray Palmer rebranded Queen Consolidated as Palmer Tech-” A small chuckle reverberates in her ear. “-and that is currently the largest business in Star City as of now, but I do believe that whatever we build there has the capability to further help our corporation.”

Benedict laughs in a condescending manner, further souring her mood. “And why would we sign off on this?”

A man from farther down the table speaks up. “Mr. Benedict, I think that's enough.” He looks up at Zatanna with curiosity. “If you can give us more information and an adequate proposal, we may be more open to the idea.”

With a small smile, Zatanna nods. “Thank you, Mr. Deacon.”

The board stands, filing out. Jack throws a dangerous glare towards Zatanna and Joey before leaving. When it's just the two of them in the room, Joey exhales through his nose. “This will be interesting,” He says.

“Yes, interesting is the word for it,” Slade chimes in, sounding irritated. “That man will be an obstacle.”

“Oh, hush. You have nothing to do with this company. And stop interrupting my thoughts when I'm in a meeting,” Zatanna bites out. She turns to Joey, regarding him with careful thought. “What do you think?”

“The Glades have been in ruin for quite a while, and yes, some of it _is_ your fault, Slade, and I think it would do us some good to do those people some good.”

With a kiss to his forehead, Zatanna smiles. “And that's why you're my right hand man.”

“I'll get started on the proposal.”

“I'll gather as much information as I can, then.”

Joey heads out and Zatanna stands there, looking out the window. She sees a flash, a glint, in the distance. “You mentioned my skirt and now you show yourself. Why the sudden personality change?” She asks dryly.

“It helped some assignments,” Slade offers. “It helped to know I was there. I can fake friendly.”

“Call me a mixed bag then.” She leaves the room, heading straight to her office. “There’s danger out there, and you might not be the only one watching.”

“I thought the danger _was_ me being the one watching you.”

The words take a second to process and she stops before sitting at her desk. “Was that a joke? Did you just try to make a joke? You know how to make those?”

“Don't you have information to gather?”

* * *

The street is busy, as usual. The taste of dreary decay sits on her tongue, as usual. The air is stale with chemicals, as usual. Times like these are when she hates her metahuman senses, but it does help when she smells the faint scent of fruit. A body spray. As Rose rounds the corner, she sees them.

“What's up, Shocks?” Virgil kicks the chair out for her and she catches it, sitting as she turns her head to look at his companion. “Eddie, how lovely to see you again.”

“Trouble, you've got a lot of explaining to do.” Eddie holds out a finger and Rose pulls out a cigarette, lighting it on his crimson skin. Few people pass and stare at the demonic looking man, but no one bothers them beyond their gawking. “Heard your brother and Grayson were skulking around our Tower. What gives?”

“Skulking?” Rose scoffs, taking a drag. “Are those the words you would use?”

“They're the ones Cassie used,” Virgil says quietly.

Rose opens her mouth, letting the smoke slowly roll up her throat and out. “Does it look like I care what Cassie thinks?”

Eddie takes a drink of his coffee, eyeing Rose. “It does to me.” When Rose shoots him a hasty look, he raises his hand. “Look, everyone knows y’all are just having a bad time right now, but you two need to talk things out.”

“Yeah, talk. I'd love to be called a slut in Greek again, please.” Rose takes another drag, exhaling. “So did you call me over here to play couples counselors, or do you have a good reason?”

Eddie and Virgil share a glance then look back at her. “Rick overheard something Joey was saying to Dick…” Virgil starts off with. “Something you're planning.”

“It's not…” Rose grumbles, trailing off before she puts the cigarette in her mouth. “None of your business.”

“Rose, please let us help,” Eddie pleads.

“Eddie, don't. It's not something I want you guys to…” Rose takes a long drag, avoiding the inevitable words. “Victor would be pissed at me. It's not something I want you to risk yourselves over.”

“Okay, cool, no doubt.” Virgil nods, putting his cup down. “Don't care. Let us help.”

Rose groans, leaning forward, covering her face before laughing dryly. “You both are insane.” With one last drag, she drops the cigarette and crushes it under her boot. “Though, I’m not one to judge. I… rescued my father off that island.” Silence falls between the three of them and Rose slaps her hands together. “With that, I'm going to go order a dirty chai. Talk amongst yourselves and determine how crazy I am.”

She leans on the counter after ordering, rubbing at her temple as she waits. They're insane for wanting to help, and she doesn't want to lose any more Titans to her ‘father’. Not after…

Tara’s face flashes once in her mind and it hurts her down to the marrow. She makes a disgusted sound, embarrassed when the barista behind the counter regards her with interest.

A few minutes later, she comes back out and they're whispering to each other. “Have we decided?”

Virgil raises a finger. “Why did you do it?”

She takes a sip, thinking of the best way to say it. “You know the old adage ‘A man's worst enemy is himself’?”

“Rose, that's…” Virgil rubs his face, sighing. “Leave it to you to misconstrue a proverb in the most insane way possible.”

“Do you doubt me?” Rose sits down and looks at Eddie, tilting her head. “Eddie?”

Eddie closes his eyes, thinking. “You wouldn't do it unless you had good reason.” He opens them again. “Is this about Destiny’s Book?”

Rose shrugs, staring at her coffee. “Of a sort. It's an ace up the sleeve, if anything. He's been watching over Zee for a few days now.”

Eddie goes quiet, nodding absently. “How is she?”

“Skip it. You don't want to hear about her, you care about Zachary.”

“He hasn't talked to me in a long while. Excuse me if I care about him.” Eddie folds his arms on the table, resting his head on them. “Back to the matter at hand. Does he know who you really are?”

“I let me training with him slip. He doesn't know I'm his daughter.” Rose leans back, groaning. “Joey and him had a lovely meeting.”

“Oh shit, what happened?” Virgil asks.

“He fucking bolted for Zatanna’s lab. Dick gave me an earful up until he realized I wasn't the one to call Joey in.” Rose takes another drink. “I'm halfway tempted on calling Gar in, though, even if we are on bad terms.”

“Yeah, that'll be a good idea. Hope Slade likes waking up with tiger claws in his chest.” Virgil drums his fingers on the table. “Look, we’ll help whatever way we can. Just let us know how we can. Don't think you're alone.”

“Right, because the Titans are so dependable and awesome and great!” Rose oozes with fake cheer, smile dropping into a glare as she stands up. “If I feel like calling you, I'll call you. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the hellhole that is Australia. If you hear _skulking_ , that'll be us.”

As she walks away drinking her chai, she tries to ignore that the warmth in her chest is from more than just her drink.

* * *

They all sit in a comfortable silence; Rose and Joey sit in the cockpit, overseeing the flight while Slade stares out the window as land and ocean pass underneath them and Zatanna sits back, reading the book they had talked about last night, going over it with a quill pen. Sighing, she flips between two pages, comparing the locations. “That isn't right,” She mutters to herself.

“What isn't?”

Her eyebrows shoot up and she looks over to see Slade looking at the book. “Oh, this plant, fellvine. It's said to be in Horsguard, which is hidden away somewhere in the Alps, but this other one, ignimon, it says it's in Horsguard as well, and even gives the name of the farm that grows it.”

“What's the problem with that?”

“The ignimon entry says that Horsguard is located in the Himalayas. I've been to Horsguard in the Alps before, though, and I've been to the farm that grows ignimon. Horsguard can't possibly be in the Himalayas. Although...” Zatanna leans back, brushing the feather against her cheek. “...if it's a fae community, the entryway might exist in more than one place.”

“I’d ask if there's such things as faeries, but by now, I should know better,” He muses.

“Now you're catching on,” She replies.

Joey's head pops out from in front of his chair. “ _Doing alright? We're almost there._ ”

“I'll be better when we're on land,” Zatanna bemoans. “I hate flying.” A hum from Slade makes her stop writing again. “What?”

“I never took you for one to hate flying. Being a business woman and all.”

Zatanna laughs, amused at his presumption. “I didn't grow up rich. My father had us live rather frugally, and the few times I was ever on a plane were terrible. I just don't like being this high up.”

Slade nods, leaning back to watch the ocean turn into land. Zatanna watches him let out a long breath, and it piques her curiosity. She has to force herself to look back at the book, pushing away her interest, and she marks the pages mentioning Horsguard for later.

There's more important work to do.

* * *

He still remembers how to get home, even it is in another universe.

Joey drives them in the rental car, with Rose in the passenger seat and Slade and Zatanna in the back. He watches the buildings rush by, lingering nostalgia blooming in his heart. There's the cafe him and Mom used to go to, there's the sports shop that Grant got his gear from, there's the bookshop where Joey got all of his books. He wants to stop, he wants to walk inside, he wants to enjoy being back again.

But he can't.

They're driving in the rural countryside, houses spaced out sparsely. He sees the shrubbery and knows they're close. From the way Slade seems to sit up, he knows too.

It hurts to see the house in such perfect condition. He sees the play set he used to swing on, though there isn't a shed built near it like he remembers. Maybe this Slade never needed a shed. A sinister whisper inside tells him maybe there was a reason his Slade did.

And with that thought in mind, Joey wonders how close this Slade is to becoming his. 

* * *

 “Nice place,” Rose comments, stepping out of the SUV. “Even if it is in Australia.”

“ _What do you have against Australia, Rose?_ ” Joey signs.

“Sure, everything here could kill _you_ , but for me, I'll survive through it. Worst fear is being put into a permanent coma while being in pain, and Australia seems like the perfect place for that.”

Slade opens the car door, taking a deep breath in. It's crisp, it's fresh, it's pain that drives a knife into his heart. His grip on the car door tightens, nearly pulling off the handle from his strength.

“This car _is_ a rental, you know,” Zatanna says hesitantly.

He lets go, self conscious of the way he's carrying himself. The steps he takes are forced, energy to take them being pulled from the depths of his bones. There's a sign posted on the door, and he comes closer to inspect it. “Condemned for infrastructure damage.”

Joey stands next to him, holding out his hand. “ _Here, a learning lesson. Pull your Fractal up._ ” After the screen appears, Joey taps ‘Records’, scrolling through categories before selecting Australia. “ _I have to narrow down results to regions right now. I'm planning on coding in a broad search. It'll take a few more weeks._ ” With the address search, a few results show. “ _There it is… trace. ASIS issued the order, and it trickled down to where it needed to. They kept this all hush hush. I wonder how._ ”

Slade puts his arm down, looking back to the paper. Echoes of coming home after Lian Yu play in his head, and he closes his eye.

“Is the door locked?” Rose pipes up. “I brought my lockpick kit.” Slade moves out of the way, leaning against the wall. Rose fiddles with the lock for a few seconds before the door swings open. “There we go.”

Rose goes in first, looking around at the empty rooms. Zatanna goes next, leaving Joey and Slade standing on the porch, looking at each other.

“Which one of us goes first?” Slade asks.

“ _I’d offer for us to both go at the same time, but the door isn't wide enough._ ”

Slade’s lips twitch in amusement and it gives him enough courage to step through the threshold.

The air is stale, settled for so many years. The paint is touched up- _stained from blood_ , a voice taunts. The carpet is different from what it used to be- _stained from blood._ He takes a deep breath, looking over as Joey stares at a place on the floor.

_Stained from blood, stained from blood, stained from blood._

The place where he died here.

“ _Hmm, carpet’s different, but house is still the same. It's weird to see where you got your throat cut but in another…_ ” Joey looks to Slade, quieting down as he realizes where exactly he is. “ _Oh._ ”

“Let’s just get this over with,” Slade takes off down the hall, going towards the back door. He decides to try to work something out on Fractal, going through ‘Reports’ then ‘Australia’. ASIS has its own section, and his intuition is confirmed right when he pulls up the report from after… after…

He shoves memories down as he reads through the follow up. Everything had been taken from the house, even the weapons hidden underneath the floorboards and in the walls. The grounds were deemed clear, and that was the end of that.

Or at least, that's what ASIS thought.

Every place that weapons were found in is listed, yet he knows of two places they missed.

The bedroom floor and walls are untouched, not needing any paint or replacement. Everything is gone; the bed, the dressers, the clothes in the closet. The lead panels in the closet, however, have a large coating of dust and when he pulls one off, the metal ammo box still sitting there since the day of their divorce. He finds it funny that Adeline held onto it up until… until…

Slade grabs it, heading to the car. As he packs the box, Zatanna appears at his side. “What is it?”

“None of your concern. Don't open it.”

She raises her hands in defense. “Alright, alright, I won't. Is that everything?”

“No, but the other boxes will be trickier. They're buried underneath the playset, and we very well can't dig a hole. It'll show someone was here.”

“Let me worry about that last part.” Zatanna puts her finger to her lips, thinking. “How long would it take to dig with a shovel?”

“An hour or so. Would be quicker if there was two people,” He answers. “Why?”

With a wave of her hand, she says something that is definitely not in any known language in the world. Two shovels appear in a swirl of red dust from thin air and she catches them, handing one to a dumbfounded Slade. “Lucky you've got a magician then. Rose, get over here! We've got digging to do.”

* * *

_Well, these pants are never getting clean again._

The hole they've dug is up to Rose’s shoulders and as wide as the playset. They've worked at it for forty five minutes, and she believes him when he says it's exactly where the playset is, but she's slowly losing hope with every passing second. It doesn't help her mood is sour about her jeans being ruined.

The shovel hits metal, vibrations moving up her arms in an uncomfortable tingle, yet it feels like sweet relief. “Found something!”

Slade comes over, brushing dirt away. “Good. That's the swords then.”

Rose bends down, unlatching the case. “How'd you keep them from rusting?”

Slade pulls one out, studying it closely. “Hot bluing. Only way to store them right.”

“ _I would've done camelia oil, but that's just me,_ ” Joey comments.

Slade blinks in surprise. “Camelia oil is messy, but useful. Something most people don't know to use. I would've done it, but I didn't know when I'd be needing these, however. Bluing made more sense.” He looks around. “There should be another trunk around here.”

Rose tests the ground by stabbing the ground with the shovel, stopping when the ringing sound of metal hitting metal can be heard. “Found it.” Her hand digs into the ground until she grasps a metal handle, pulling hard until it's unearthed. This one is thicker but not as long. “What's in here?”

“Guns. Ammo.” Slade shrugs. “What I need.”

“ _Cassandra didn't give you what you need?_ ” Joey asks flippantly.

“No, she packed survival gear. Kevlar vests, rations, flares. I don't know what she expects me to-”

As soon as he says the words, he knows exactly what Cassandra was expecting.

_“You act like you're sending me against an army.”_

_“You might be fighting one.”_

She expects him to kill himself, and has high regards if she believes his doppelgänger to be on par with an army. How familiar was this Cassandra with him? How did she know his work so well?

Joey picks up on the pause, moving past it. “ _Fine. Have your toys. Let's get out of here._ ”

“We cannot leave the ground like this,” Slade stresses.

Zatanna shakes her head. “Just get out of the hole, Wilson.”

Rose tosses the gun locker up, pulling herself up. “Listen to what she says, Slade.”

With a grumble, he follows suit. As soon as they're out, Zatanna crouches by the lip of the hole, placing a hand on the edge. “ _Llif,_ ” She whispers. The dirt they unearthed starts swirling, filling the hole until it's flat with the rest of the ground.

“Okay, great,” Slade says in an irritated tone. “What about-”

Zatanna’s huff stops him, and he looks down to see her glaring at him before she looks back down. “ _Worg_.”

Grass pushes out of the dirt, spreading and evening out with the rest of it. Rose still can't get over it; every time she sees Zatanna make something bloom, it astounds her to the point of being speechless. A glance to her father shows it runs in the family.

Zatanna stands back up, brushing her hands together. “Good as new.”

“You couldn’t have magicked the trunks out of the ground?”

“Mm…” Zatanna taps her chin in contemplation before smiling and shrugging. “No.”

Slade continues to stare before shaking his head and turning away. “Just show me where I sign the damn contract.”

* * *

They retrace their steps when they head back to the States, and it makes Joey nervous. He's surprised they were able to sneak through the Titan Towers once; he doesn't think they'll be able to do it again.

With a shove, he pops the panel off of the garage floor, pulling himself up before moving aside and holding out a hand to pull Zatanna up.

“Is security looped?” Rose asks in a hushed whisper.

“ _Should be, unless someone looked at the records with a magnifying glass, but there's no reason to do so._ ”

It's dead night, and the four pad their way through the halls. The teleportation room has a low hum, and Joey checks the power levels to see if they can even go. “ _They're a little low, but we should be fine._ ”

A hiss in the dark makes them all jump, nerves racked from the secrecy. “Apologies, it felt as if something scratched me,” Slade says to a relieved room.

“Get the teleporter ready and let's go,” Zatanna mutters.

The feeling of being moved from one half of the States to the other is nauseating, and Joey leans against the railing to take a deep breath.

“You didn't take your dopamine, did you?” Rose asks, wrapping her arm around her brother in support. “You know how teleporting messes with you-”

Joey waves her off with his stray hand, leaning into her. His eyes are fluttering, tired from all of the traveling. The jet lag is setting in quickly, pulling at his state of mind and making his hands feel heavy.

She pulls him along, carrying most of his weight. The halls feel different than West Tower, and it's confirmed when Virgil comes out of the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn and a six pack of soda underneath his arm. “Oh hey, guys.”

Joey nods his head up. “ _What's up, Hawkins?_ ”

“Rick wanted to marathon Doctor Who.” Virgil nods towards Slade. “He cool?”

Joey looks to Slade, seemingly apathetic, but Joey knows what the slightly furrowed brow, clenched fists, and tightened lips mean. “ _Yeah, as cool as can be._ ”

Virgil looks at Rose and shakes his head, laughing. “You're fucking crazy, Trouble. But we miss you anyways.”

Footsteps stomp in from down the hall, and a head pops out from a door, light reflecting off his bottle cap glasses. “Hey, Verge, what's taking you so long?”

“ _Hey, you son of a bitch, why don't you go watch your nerd show?_ ” Joey signs, audio reverberating across the hall.

The young man comes out from around the corner, hands in his pants pockets. “Bitch, I'm sure you have seven different anime on hold on your Fractal.”

“ _That's not the…_ ” His hands fall to his side and he groans.

“Oh geez, Joey. Did you not take your dopamine?” Rick turns around, waving Rose forward. “Come on, I've got the kit in the bathroom.”

The siblings follow Rick, leaving Virgil to sigh. “How nervous was he when you guys had to sneak through West?”

“Pretty nervous,” Zatanna admits. “Last night, he was fine, but going back to where he used to live-at least, where he lived on the other side-derailed him a little.”

“That has to be some fucked up jet lag too.” Virgil shrugs before fumbling and offering Zatanna a soda. “Want one?”

“No, I'm good, hun. Thank you, though.”

Virgil turns to Slade. “What about you?”

“...I'm fine.”

* * *

What else is he supposed to say?

Being offered a drink so casually offsets his apathy. The very fact that the two young men knew they would be here is troublesome; no one was supposed to know what they were doing. He has an inkling of who told, though; Rose was too comfortable coming in and out of the East Tower.

The boy steps back, nodding. “Cool, cool.”

A forlorn Rose comes down the hall, sighing. “He threw up until he was dry heaving. Rick’s got him cooling off.” She leans against the wall, shaking her head. “Zee’s place is three hours away and he's not ready for any kind of movement. Even getting him into the shower made him vomit, and you know how magical shifts work.”

“Yeah, Zee laughing at you while your head’s in a trash can. Fond memories.”

“Virgil, I know it's not your call-” Zatanna starts to say before he waves her off.

“Cassie’s out on a thing for Diana and Vic’s off at West on a thing for Dick. Karen is _technically_ in charge, but she just left a couple hours ago. Y’all can stay here for the night. Rose, your room is untouched.” Rose gives him a wave and leaves. Virgil looks to Slade, thinking. “I don't know where exactly you'll sleep-”

“Outside of wherever Joey does,” Slade responds curtly. It doesn't matter what happens, he'll spend all night staring at the Fractal and watching over Zatanna as he sits outside Joey’s door just so he _knows_ Joey is okay.

“Suit yourself. I'll grab you blankets too.” Virgil heads down the hall, taking a left.

A piercing stare brings Slade out of his worried thoughts and he turns from the window to look at Zatanna. “I'll be watching you thro-” He starts to protest.

“It's not that. It's…” Zatanna trails off, thinking. “I don't know what the next day holds, and I fear what it could mean for Rose if we stay here.”

“It's a fair worry.” Slade looks back out the window, staring out at the city lights. “I'm not exactly a welcome sight, am I?”

Zatanna inhales, choosing words carefully. “...no, you're not. I'm just glad we got through the West Tower easily. They would've had a harder time not reacting.”

Another sharp pain scratches into his back and he hisses. “What the hell…” Touching where it had been is sticky, and he brings his hand back to see blood staining his fingers.

“Oh no,” Zatanna breathes, slowly backing away. “Just stay there. Don't move.”

As she takes off running down the hall, Slade sighs. He can't blame her; his blood is just as well tainted as far as anyone knows, and they have yet to see if it's going to send him in a spiraling rage. It's good she's being careful; he has no idea if whatever is in his system is contagious.

“Now that it's just you and me…”

Slade’s eye widens but he says nothing. The sound of bone and sinew snapping and crunching echoes behind him before a young man comes around his side, disgusted snarl on his face. “What are you doing here?”

“My job,” Slade retorts, amused by his behavior. Patterns dictate that this is the reason he felt scratches at the West Tower, and by presumption, he's a West Titan. “And you?”

“Protecting those I love.” The boy crosses his arms, and the moonlight across them shows that yes, they are indeed green. He seems to be green all over; his hair reminds Slade of a deep pine forest, contrasting with the glowing amber cat eyes. “I don't like you, and if you do anything to Joey or Rose, you're not going to like me either.”

“Threatening? How cute.”

The boy’s face sours more. “I can do a lot more than just open your back up-”

“Gar?” Zatanna comes back, holding a medical kit and looking very serious. “It was you. You cut Slade when we came through West. What were you?”

“A shrew. I wanted to make him hurt.”

“Make him hurt?”

Gar starts raising his voice. “Zatanna, you know what he's done!”

Her lips press and she lets out a long breath through her nose. “Joey is in the Paris room. You can go now.”

“Zata-” Gar starts to argue, but she taps her foot and he stops.

“You. Can. Go. _Now._ ” She stresses the last word through gritted teeth, and it sends a minute spark of fear through Slade. Gar turns away, face contorted in a guilty way. As he leaves, Zatanna replaces her white gloves with latex ones from the kit. “I'm sorry,” She finally says. “Garfield is very territorial.”

“He said he was a shrew?”

“He can change into animals. I presume you heard him changing. It's not the quietest thing in the world.” She closes the kit after taking a long rod out. “Stand still.” Clicking a button, the rod starts glowing ultraviolet purple and she kneels down to check the floor. “I know exactly what to look for. Your daughter is not exactly the most careful person when she fights. I’m used to having to search for her blood.”

“Thought she could see the future?”

“It's not always precise.” It takes her a good minute before she stands up again. “The floor’s fine. Come on, let's get you cleaned up.”

He follows her down the hall and to the right, leading to a corridor of doors. “Joey’s staying in that one,” She points out. “We’ll want this one.”

The room is a deep red, sakura blossoms painted white and pink in a way that insinuates they're being swept away by the wind. The tree painted in the corner sprawls out along both walls, seemingly growing out of the wall itself. Zatanna notices him staring, and he finds himself trying to say something. “It's… nice.”

It's an acceptable answer, as she nods with a faint smile. “Joey painted all of the rooms. Everyone came up with a theme for the guest rooms, and he tried his best to go with it.”

“What was the theme? Japan?”

“Tranquility. Eddie wanted somewhere to meditate.” Zatanna gestures to the bed. “Sit.” Slade listens, scowling as he does. She follows suit, kneeling behind him and pulling at his shirt. “Come on. I can't clean your wounds if your shirt’s still on.”

He makes a grumbling noise before taking it off. Her silence fills the room, speaking volumes as she struggles to find words. After a minute, she lets out a sad laugh. “And I thought Rose’s scars were bad.” With a whisper, she presses a soft damp towel against his back, and it does more than just wipe away blood; he can feel tiny soothing swirls weave their way over his skin.

“What is that?”

“An herb concoction. The Titans have to deal with a lot more serious injuries, and some of them don't handle pain well. This helps calm them into a level where they can think clearer.” A few more passes with the rag and she freezes. “There’s… there's nothing here.”

Slade cocks a smirk. “What, you thought I was cured?” His grin turns sour as he thinks about the cell, about the needles-

_Needlesneedlesneedlesneedlespainbloodbloodagonyneedlesneedlesneedles_

“You have to know ARGUS better than that,” He finishes, shoving memories out again as he stands. “I'm not going to fly into a rage, but I doubt that you'd believe any of my promises.”

Zatanna tilts her head and looks down at the floor, visibly mulling over his words as she bathes the bloody rag in a blue fire in her hand. The fire seems to burn away the blood, leaving the rag pristine white again. “I want to.” She looks back up and gives him a wistful smile. “Trust issues are terrible.”

Slade nods, understanding more than he should have to.

“Hand me your shirt.” She passes it through the same fire before giving it back. When he puts it on, he feels a warmth, as if he's sitting next to an open hearth in the winter. “I'll be sleeping in here. I've always appreciated this room.”

“The door stays open.”

Zatanna laughs again, this time ruefully. “If that's what it takes for you to do your job, then fine.”

Virgil comes in, holding a few different things. “I've got this thick pad for a mattress, pillow, sheet, and a few extra blankets just in case.”

Slade nods, taking them out of his hands.

“You going to be alright in here, Zee?”

“I'll be fine, Virgil.” Zatanna rubs her eyes and smiles. “Go watch your show.”

Virgil starts to leaves, stopping to look at Slade for a second, making a decision. “You're not that bad, I guess.”

Slade doesn't reply, face stony as Virgil finally goes.

“See? You're not that bad,” Zatanna says, smiling.

Slade shakes his head. “I'll be across the hall.”

* * *

He's leaning against the wall, going through the Fractal and finding everything he can that has Lili in it. There are a handful of pictures from when she was in Cambodia; most of them are after she moved to New York.

Shuffling reaches his ears and Slade snaps his head up, watching as Zatanna pads out with a blanket on tow. Without words, she lays out the blanket on the opposite side of the doorway, throwing down a pillow before lying down and flipping the blanket over her. He watches as she shimmies and rolls over into her stomach, looking up at him. “I can't sleep,” She offers to his awaiting look.

Slade nods, turning back to the Fractal.

“What are you looking at?”

Slade pauses for a second. “Nothing important.” It's dismissive, but she persists.

“Uh-huh. Come here.” She slithers out of her blanket, grabbing his wrist and pulling it towards her. “...oh.”

Slade exhales through his nose, trying his hardest not to snap.

Zatanna sits up, shoulder to shoulder with him. “I remember this one.” She points out a picture: Lilith in an apron, matching a smaller Rose who is eating something off of a spatula. “She was five. They were making a cake for one of the refugees.”

Slade doesn't say anything, instead moving to another one, where Lilith is making a daisy chain with Rose, flowers weaving in and out of her white hair. “Nine. It was spring and Rose wanted to go camping. Oh, go to that one!” It's of Lilith, Zatanna, and Rose; they're wearing the stereotypical ugly holiday sweaters, with a pine tree in the back. “Rose was six, and she kept hearing about Christmas and she got really sad when she realized she wouldn't be celebrating, so Lilith had me get together a small Christmas.”

“You were there for all of that?” Slade is surprised; Lilith was so private, hesitant to trust even him.

“These pictures are in the Fractal cloud because I took them. I was there when Rose was born.” Zatanna stares a hole into the wall across from them, and he watches as her brow furrows. “She never told me who the father was, except that he was a good man, and that it was for the best that he left.”

He suppresses a bitter smile, looking down instead to see Lilith looking back from years ago. “If she only knew.”

Zatanna huffs out a dry laugh. “If only.”

The silence between them draws out and she sighs, leaning back against the wall.

He looks up at the ceiling for a second before facing her. “How did she come to know you?”

Zatanna snorts, closing her eyes for a few seconds. “I was fifteen. I ran away from my father because… well, because I was young and angry and frustrated that I was expected to inherit an entire legacy so soon. I thought I knew better.” She smiles wryly, giving him an aside look. “Obviously, I didn't. I ran from Shadowcrest all the way to New York under the name Ana Anara. I just wanted something new, and I figured it would be there.

“I tried working a normal job without magic, but it's not…” Zatanna mulls over her words. “Magic and I can't really stay away from each other. It's a family thing; it's a call, it's another limb that needs to stretch and move or it atrophies. I've actually seen only one case of atrophied magic, and it's easily a fate worse than death. She was highly suicidal, and she eventually… got her way.

“Anyways, I wandered from job to job. A waitressing job was left because I gave a coworker a treatment for her cold and she started to ask me too many questions. I tried retail, but the itch to help people over selling things upset my manager, so I got fired.

“One night, I was walking around, looking for jobs on foot. I didn't have a place to live, so I turned down an alley to find some cover so I could sleep. I heard sobbing and followed the sound. There she was, comforting someone no older than I was as the young girl cried her heart into Lili’s chest. I asked what I could do, and Lili asked if I could cure a broken heart. I said I could try.

“The girl had just been disowned by her parents for being in love with a girl, and refused to let her back in because they believed her ‘sinful ways’ would damn their mortal souls.” Zatanna scoffs in disgust. “I could never understand a religion that boasts of love, yet turns away those who need it most. It angered me so much, so I took off to her house. They left the window open just a little too much, and I slipped in.

“I didn't want to kill them, I just wanted to make them feel her pain, so I cursed them with a vision of God coming down and telling them they'd never see the gates of Heaven for what they did to her. If God exists, They either hate me to this day or were laughing the whole way through.

“Either way, they came to the shelter, begged for her back. As soon as she left, Lilith turned to me and offered me a job. It wasn't like any other job; I'd be helping turn lives around, for those who needed it the most. Most of the time, I was watching out for people.”

“Essentially a bodyguard, or perhaps even a vigilante.”

The amusement in his voice makes her smile. “Some of the people that came to the shelter just wanted somewhere to sleep. Some of them were hiding for good reason, and Lili always made sure that it was a sound reason. Some of the refugees were sex workers, and those who were did it out of want, not necessity, and it became part of my job to make sure that it was never a necessity. I became the person who knew how to fix the impossible.

“Three months in, she couldn't hide her pregnancy any longer. It was starting to show, and she'd caught on to some of the things I could do.” Zatanna smiles, shaking her head. “I'll admit, it jarred me when she asked me to make it disappear. She only told a woman who was a midwife, knowing the time would come eventually. I did my best to hide it with illusion magic, and she simply went along with whatever I did. I researched herb books to see what would help her symptoms, and her eyes lit up every time I showed her a new plant, and oh, would she beg me to teach her how to plant it right.

“My father eventually found me, and was proud of how I was doing. He was proud I was making people’s lives better, and he loosened the reins on my teachings of his company. It was nice to be a part of something, knowing that I had found my calling as someone who helped people through thick and thin. I stayed in New York. Even though I told myself that after the baby was born that I would leave, I couldn’t. I just…

“When Rose was born, it was the strangest thing. All the refugees knew was that one moment, Lili was running the show, making sure things were smoothed out, and the next, she's screaming from the bedroom.”

“Did she not go to the hospital?” Slade asks incredulously.

“She was afraid of it jeopardizing her refugee status, with how delicate it was.” When he cocks his head, she laughs bitterly. “You think they just let her off the hook? After everything that happened in Cambodia? The American government only cared about justifying the means of their takeover, and as long as she was quiet, they didn't bother her.

“I fetched the midwife and we were lucky that there were no complications. Rose came out easy, and she was quiet, very quiet. The only surprise was the faint white hair, but it didn't bother Lilith one bit. That was still her Rose, pure and white.”

“It's a family gene of Lilith’s,” He adds in.

Zatanna nods. “Lilith always loved playing with her hair. Rose absolutely hated braids, said that she felt she looked dumb. She missed out on a lot of social interaction; it was too much of a risk to send her to any school, public or private, and few kids ever came to the shelter, fewer stayed around long enough to be her friend.

“Rose grew up with being taught from everyone around her, and when she learned everything she could from them, she begged me to take her to the library to read more. Her favorite was history and psychology; I think she liked reading about tactics, about outsmarting people. It wasn't that she wasn't outwardly malicious, it was that at the age of eight, she understood exactly why she lived in the States and not in Cambodia, and why her mother looked through old photos so much. Her morals were pure and sweet, and we thought she would never have to face what Lilith did.”

Zatanna pauses, taking a deep breath.

“Rose was eleven and playing pirates with her friend Neary. Lilith and I had just gotten back with a friend from settling some legal matters in a not-so-legal manner. Everything was a usual day, but our friend came because she knew that Lili was in danger. We thought the danger was over.

“Obviously, we were wrong.

“The lights went out suddenly. There was commotion all around, and I heard Lili gasp before taking off down the hall to where Rose was. And there you were, standing in the doorway, full armor on and everything. I hadn't a clue who you were, and neither did Lili. She lunged at you, pulling you out of the room. Rose had her knife out, standing in front of Neary, no fear on her face.

“I summoned a rapier and swung at you just before you grabbed Lili. You deflected it quickly, and you and I started fighting back and forth. It tired me, but you… you were unrelenting, tireless as I tried anything to bring you down. Even magic was ineffective to your armor.

“I heard Rose cry out, and when I turned to look at her, Lilith was clutching an arrow in her chest, looking to me with pleading eyes. I ran to her, catching her just in time. I didn't get to say goodbye. She was dead…”

Zatanna sniffles, pulling her blanket to her to wipe away tears.

“...before I could say anything. The man in black who shot her spoke a spell, and it opened a portal. You pushed me in, Rose’s wrist in your hand, and I was stuck in a barren realm for what felt like eons. In there, converting time and everything, it was about forty years.”

Only a inch is between them, but it feels like miles. Slade calculates and comes to a jarring conclusion. She would be at least sixty if that was true, but she looks as if she's still in her mid twenties. “You don't look it.”

“No one ever tells you that other realms don't have a concrete concept of time. It also helps that I have eternal youth from my mother. Of course, _I_ didn't know that at the time. But that place… that place was like limbo. The only way to keep time was with my pocket watch, and after a year, I lost hope and tried to make the best of it.

“There were creatures unlike any I've ever seen. Not all of them were hostile, but not all of them were peaceful. It was hard to survive, and I eventually was rescued, and when I was brought back, it was barely even an hour after Lilith had died.

“But an hour was enough time for the place to be set aflame. It was cinders when I came back, and I had nothing again. So I went home, defeated and depressed for the next two years until the Titans were formed by the mentee of my best friend.”

“Dick Grayson.”

She nods. “Yes, and once again, I had a purpose. There was a girl, Rachel-”

“The daughter of Trigon, right?” She raises her eyebrows in surprise, and he shrugs. “Joey was telling me about his side.”

“Ah, yes. Almost identical. I imagine that Rachel was the same as this one. I knew of her demon heritage as soon as I laid eyes on her, and it made me distrusting of her up until she proved herself different, until she fought her father’s possession.”

“He likes doing that,” Slade muses.

Her laughter is like the tinkling of chimes. “Yes, very much so.” Zatanna sobers up, taking a deep breath. “I trust her with my entire being. I trust very few.”

“Oh?” He draws his knees to his chest. “Do you trust me? With your well being, I mean.”

“Jury’s still out.”

That's fair; he can't argue any more. He's grateful her attitude is neutral still. “What caused the distrust?”

“The man who killed Lilith studied magic underneath my father. He was the golden son my father never had, up until what happened. He even tried to come back to my father after what he did, tried to learn more secrets. It's the one time I've actually seen my father curse someone; it's really hard to muster up enough raw emotion to cast a curse. But I was hurt, and it was the closest I've ever come to burning myself out on magic through casting sleep spell after sleep spell. It's why I have such bad insomnia; even now, the effects of tolerance is still high. My father made sure that the man was always given hope only to lose everything at the last second, and cast him out from Shadowcrest.”

“Is he notable?”

“For you?” Zatanna shrugs, faking nonchalance, but he can see the slight tremble of her shoulders. “Very.”

Slade goes silent, his instinct going into overdrive. An archer in black, related to magic, with a notable connection. He doesn't want to say his name, but he pushes it out, all the while it bites at his tongue. “Malcolm Merlyn.”

Zatanna snaps her fingers. “Got it on one.” She sighs, looking to the ground. “Rose doesn't know.”

“Why not?”

If she's fazed by his frustration, it doesn't show. “I don't want her to go down that path. Where did that path lead you?”

_To a hole in the worst place on Earth._

She takes his silence as an answer. “Then you understand why. Even then, she very well may find out herself.” When he tilts his head in confusion, she sighs. “The entire reason why she’s off kilter is because she touched Destiny’s Book. It contains what has, what is, and what will happen. I don’t know if she’s able to filter whatever the Book is giving her, but somewhere in there is the undeniable fact that Merlyn killed Lili, and I don’t know how I’m going to explain to her my lie of omission.”

Again, the quiet takes them, a silent scream of truth in his ear. “I'm sorry,” He finally murmurs, and it makes her head turn.

“What?”

“I insulted you in the car. I'm sorry that I said what I did.”

Zatanna blinks then starts laughing. She doesn't stop, leaning into his shoulder as he stares at her with unamusement. “The flowers! You were using flowers to apologize!”

Slade huffs, shaking his head. “Do you know how bothersome you are?” He says, folding his arms.

“It was nice.” Zatanna stretches her legs out. “It reminded me of her. I accept the apology.”

He doesn't respond, instead going to another picture. Rose is just a toddler, holding a flower to her chest and looking at the camera with wide eyes and a cheeky grin.

Zatanna softens, a small smile gracing her face. “Three. We went to a flower expo, and while Lilith was running her stand, I took Rose around to make her an eternal flower wreath of whatever she wanted.” She looks to him, trying to read past him, but his walls are up hard. This is a job, nothing more, but something’s swimming at the surface. “You care about her,” She says in the same manner one would say that the earth is round.

Silence is once again his answer.

“Why won't you admit it?”

“If I admit it, it'll make it harder to go,” Slade says, clenching his fist until he feels his nails bite at his skin. It pulls his attention away, enough for him to put words together. “She needs a life without me. They both do. As soon as this Deathstroke is gone, I will be too.”

“Yet you continue to find pictures of her willingly.”

Slade’s lips twitch. “I've never been kind to myself when it comes to sentimentality and letting things go.”

“Oh, same.”

They share a smile; hers knowing and pitying, his pained and reluctant. Yet, the quiet is comfortable this time. He continues to look through Fractal, and she leans against the wall, closing her eyes. After a few minutes, when he turns to ask her a question about a teenage Rose with her arm wrapped around another young woman, both of them grinning, she's fast asleep.

He starts to move her and it wakes her, making her whine. “Don't.”

“You need to sleep in your bed.”

“Don't make me go back to the bedroom. It's lonely.”

With a sigh, he pulls her blanket away, laying it spread out where she had it before. After throwing the pillow down, he slings her arm around him, leading her the two feet and laying her down gently. She pulls the blanket over, snuggling into it before falling asleep almost instantly.

Slade sits back down, opposite side of the doorway, pulling the Fractal back up and scrolling through the pictures he's saved before turning to look at Zatanna again.

At least she's easier to watch from here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love blaming things on Malcolm Merlyn :3c


	6. on a rainslick precipice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things that simmer at the surface are more likely hotter at the bottom

The feeling of an arm wrapping around his frame wakes Joey, and he turns to see Garfield gazing at him. “Roll back over, I was playing with your hair.”

Joey shakes his head, sighing. “ _How did you get here?_ ”

“I...I hitched a ride.”

“ _On my father?_ ”

Gar groans. “Don't put it that way. I don't like hearing it that way.”

“ _Why did you do it?_ ”

Gar shifts uncomfortably. “I was sleeping in the living room and got woken up by the sound of the hatch downstairs. I followed as a shrew and when I figured out that things weren't bad, I came with you guys.”

“ _That doesn't answer my question of why._ ”

“Because I don't trust him, Joey!” Gar slips out of the bed, running his hands through his hair and pacing. Joey sits up and watches his boyfriend go back and forth as he tries to find words. “I can't trust that you'll be safe-that Zee or Rose will be safe. I can't trust that I won't wake up to anyone and-slash-or everyone dead.”

“ _So you don't trust my judgement?_ ”

“That's not-” Gar nearly scratches his scalp off, instead digging his nails into the wrought iron bed frame. “That is not what I mean.”

“ _Then what do you mean, Gar?_ ”

Garfield’s head hangs and he lets out a long breath. “Just because it can't happen, doesn't mean I'm still not afraid of it. But this _could_ happen, and it gives me all the more reason to be afraid.”

“ _But I don't think it will._ ”

Garfield looks up, eyelashes just barely covering his green irises, and Joey knows exactly what game he's pulling.

“ _Babe, stop that. It's not going to work. I don't even know what you're trying._ ”

Gar leaps over the railing into Joey’s lap, eyes wide as he wraps his arms around Joey’s neck.

“ _Babe, please._ ”

Their foreheads press together and Joey lets out a long sigh.

“ _Babe, why are you like this?_ ”

“I worry,” Gar says, offering it with no hesitation.

Joey grabs Garfield’s hand and kisses the back of it with a soft smile. “ _I'll be fine. I know it._ ”

Gar echoes his sigh and nods. “If you say so.”

A loud yell startles them and Rose barges in, wearing black shorts and a long orange tee. “Breakfast is ready!”

Gar wrinkles his nose. “ _Who made it?_ ”

“Relax, Rick made you some tofu sausage. If I had it my way, you'd be choking on regular sausage.” She pauses then gives them a sly smile. “Though, if I had left you guys alone for a few more minutes, you might've done so anyways.”

Joey flicks a small ball of energy at the wall next to his sister’s head, clearly annoyed. “ _Rose, get out._ ”

She flits away, laughter following. With a sigh, Joey stands up, running a hand through his hair as he steps through the doorway, freezing when he sees Slade sitting to the side. Did he hear? Never mind that his Slade never knew his son’s full identity; how would this one take it?

“ _Morning,_ ” He signs, hands trembling.

Slade nods, nose deep in the Fractal. “Morning.”

Joey stands there, an irrational fear flooding his bloodstream. “ _Did you sleep?_ ”

“No, I'll manage through the day.” Joey is about to turn away, but Slade adds something. “Please tell your boyfriend not to cut me again, or he and I will have words.”

“I'm right here,” Gar grumbles as he puts his shirt on.

“I know,” Slade says with great apathy. Garfield walks away, continuing his grumbling as he heads down the hall. Joey stares after him before turning back to see Slade standing up. “This shows so much.”

“ _It'll show more._ ” Joey smiles, pulling the Fractal between the two. “ _Karen laid out the groundwork of the hardware, and Rick built the basis of the software. It was originally meant as just a hacking tool, but I added a screen to it and started just adding in more._ ” They start walking down the hall, and the way Slade is listening, intent and unwavering, unnerves him for no reason. “ _The Titans don't really bother me about the Fractal; it doesn't sit right with most of them of having complete access to every electronic device in the world. It's too much of a temptation._ ”

Slade hums in contemplation before being led to the elevators. “It would be a lot on one person’s shoulders. How do you fare with the brunt of it?”

Joey nods. “ _I indulge myself with small selfish things. I watch Gar play games, I watch what's going on through Rose’s eye as long as it's unlocked, I check in on Rachel. It's hard, but I give myself small things to do so I'm not taking down businesses that I think should go out._

_“Sure, theoretically, a lot of big corporations deserve to go down due to their corruption, but how many jobs would be lost? Okay, then move money to their accounts that would carry them long enough to find another job. But that’s theoretically; realistically, all those employees would find themselves in some kind of legal trouble for something they never did.”_

“You've really thought about this, haven't you?”

“ _I have to._ ” Joey shrugs as they enter a kitchen. “ _Who else will?_ ”

* * *

Awkwardness has never been in Slade’s vocabulary before, but if there was a time to use it, that time would be now.

Garfield sits with Rick, raising his head when they enter the room to glare at Slade. Joey sighs, starting to raise his hands, but Slade stops him. “It's fine. Go eat with them.”

“ _That's not fair,_ ” Joey signs, each gesture sharp and violent.

“Don't raise your voice with me,” Slade snarks.

Joey stiffens, and for a second, a sliver of worry worms its way into Slade. It grows when Joey raises his hands to his face, trembling, then disappearing as Joey starts laughing. “ _Smartass,_ ” Joey manages to sign with shaking hands. When he calms, he smiles. “ _I'm not eating without you._ ”

Virgil slides two plates towards them, nodding slightly with a smile. “The usual. Promised it's not poisoned.”

Much to Slade’s chagrin, Joey follows him when he goes to sit with Rose. She’s curled up in the couch, stabbing at her plate and she eyes him with curiosity as he sits on the floor, leaning against the side of the couch. “Afraid to sit on actual furniture?”

“I don't want to insult your friends.”

Rose snorts. “Garfield Logan is no friend of mine right now.”

Joey lets out a long exhale before shoving Rose’s feet off of the end of the couch. “ _Rose, stop. You know how he is._ ”

Rose spears a piece of bacon, glaring at her brother. “A pain in my ass?”

Garfield comes in from the other room, face scrunched in a glare. “I'm right here.”

Rose doesn't even bother to look up. “I know you are. It's rather unfortunate.” The sound of bone cracking rings throughout the room, and a large tiger lunges from out of the kitchen. Slade almost pushes Rose out of the way, but she slips over the back of the couch before he can, food still in hand. “Christ, Beastie, don't take it so personal.” Her honeyed smile betrays her though, and a snarl rips out of the cat’s throat as he rears back to jump again.

“ _Pots!_ ”

A red aura surrounds them both, freezing them both in place. Rose frowns as she looks up. “Zee, I'm trying to eat-”

“No, you're leaving. We all are.” Zatanna snaps her fingers and the red auras drop. It almost puts Slade in fear to see her usually delicate face in a twisted snarl, hands balled into tight fists that are nearly sparking. All of the children look down, avoiding her stare, and she turns on her heel. “Meet at the Charger in five minutes.”

“Zatanna, that's three blocks away.”

“Then I guess you better start moving.”

* * *

The car ride is quiet, with Rose leaning against the window looking ever the angsty teen. Joey sits as far away from her as he can, pushed up against the door as much as possible. Slade is surprised that Joey can even be mad; he presumed the boy simply lost the emotion somewhere along the way.

Zatanna herself is concealed; her hood is pulled up, sunglasses covering her eyes. When he closes his eye, he can't help but to focus on the grinding of Rose’s teeth, Joey’s fight for even breaths, Zatanna’s heartbeat flying like a hummingbird. He can honestly not say where he even stands with everyone. The whole entire fight in the East Tower was because he was there; and even Joey didn't talk to him after Zatanna left the room. It's a surprising sting to his emotions, even more surprising that his emotions are even coming into play. He's in too far, he cares too much, and he doesn't even know how to untangle himself from it. How does he pull himself away from his children when it comes down to it? How does he leave after he kills himself?

Zatanna parks in the garage, pulling down her hood and leaning her arm on the open window. “Out,” She bites out, and he sees the visible effort it takes for her not to snap.

Both of his children get out; Rose stomping over to a smaller motorcycle, Joey rushing into the house with a slam of the door. Zatanna looks over to him, raising her glasses. “Did you not think I was talking about you too?”

“I did,” Slade admits. “But I thought I was supposed to listen to what Rose tells me, and she hasn't told me to not watch you.”

Zatanna hums as she rests the glasses in her hair. “And here you are, surprising me. How comfortable are you with a long car ride?”

“Well, it's not like I have much of a choice.”

The words make her lips upturn into a slight smile. “Fair enough.”

The highway she takes them down is surprisingly barren; they only pass a few cars while on it, and Zatanna seems to treat the speed signs as suggestions rather than law to his amusement. It's five minutes under an hour before she follows a turnoff, seemingly leading into a thick forest. The road is well paved, taken care of despite the thickets of firs around them, and as Slade notices the small twinkle in her eyes, he makes the guess of it's not because of government sanctions.

The radio fizzles in and out and she reaches over to shut it off. “It's quiet here,” She says, breaking the silence with an irony. “No one ever comes out here, except for me.”

They follow the road down, crisp leaves falling around them and blanketing the floor of the forest. The trees start to thin out, revealing a shimmering lake to the right. In the distance, he sees a small cabin, past where the road ends. She parks at the end of the pavement, turning the car off. “Do what you will. I’m going swimming.”

He says nothing, having learned by now that he should just sit quiet and wait for things to unfold. She gets out of the car, slowly shimmering from her previous leather jacket and pants to… shirt and shorts? It’s not conventional to swim in, he muses, as she walks down the slight bend of the grass to the lake. Slade gets out, watching her out of the corner of his eye as he heads to inspect the cabin. It’s mostly intact, taken care of quite nicely. The sound of her diving into the lake faintly registers in his mind as he opens the door, taking in the quaint furniture, made of wood that seems to be stained a dark blue. He glances back to check on Zatanna, panicking when he sees the clothes on the surface of the lake. He doesn’t even know he’s running until he’s clearing the slope, sliding to reach the dock where she dove in. The clothes are floating, and he’s too frantic to notice the thin electric blue lines swishing in the water until they’re almost breaking surface.

It’s a cluster, snaking around in the lake and spreading tendrils out. They pulse, growing brighter for a second before dimming again. They spread farther out, roots thinning out more before snapping together into a tight ball. A watery hand emerges along with a pattern of tendrils, and he realizes they’re veins as flesh forms along the surface, grabbing the dock. He backs up a little, startled as Zatanna brings herself up and rests her torso on the dock, grinning all the while. “I presume you’ve never seen that trick at a magician’s show.”

He lets out a long breath. “No, I haven’t.”

She giggles, and he swears it sounds like wind chimes. “You’re so much fun, you know that?”

He shakes his head, pressing his lips together to keep from smiling. “That’s not something that I’ve ever been accused of.”

_Except for-_

* * *

She’s sitting out in front of their tent, looking up at the stars. He comes out to see her, bringing a blanket with him, stopping to admire the way the campfire illuminates her face. “You’re going to catch a cold,” He chides.

“Oh, stop,” Lili sighs, yet still takes the blanket. “You worry too much.”

“I have to.” He presses a kiss to her temple, a lovesick grin on his face. “It’s technically my job.”

Lili scoffs, folding her arms. “How do you say it? All work and no play?”

Slade pulls the blanket away from her, ignoring her small protest as he pulls her onto it with him. She lands on top of him and her laugh is deep and rich and full of life. “I’ve never known such fun as you, Corporal.”

He rolls his eyes, pulling her fully onto him. “You don’t get out much, do you?”

“No, I’ve just been stuck away in my lonely tower,” Lili says, putting a hand to her forehead with flair. “Waiting for someone to rescue me.”

“I’m not a knight in shining armor, love,” He argues, amused with her theatrics.

“No, but even if you were…” She edges his shirt up inch by inch, hand caressing his stomach. “The armor wouldn’t be on for long,” She whispers before kissing him deeply.

* * *

_-Lilith._

“Slade?”

He blinks, memories fading as he looks down at Zatanna. She’s worried, brow furrowed down and lips thinned. “Sorry,” He says, throwing it out as soon as he can. “Remembering something.”

She nods, resting her head on her arms. Only now does he notice the blue lines along her arms and the way they frame her eyes. “What were you remembering?”

He doesn’t answer for a minute, giving in only when she shows no sign of swimming away. “Lilith.”

Zatanna sighs, looking away. “I’m sorry there’s not a way to give you closure.”

Slade snorts, sitting on the dock. “Why in the hell would you care about giving me closure?”

She shrugs, smiling as blue tendrils creep up from the water to slide onto the dock. “Ask me a question I know the answer to.”

“What is… that?” He asks, waving his hand to the tendrils.

“Magic. Life magic, or vitae, to be exact. It’s when I’m most attuned to an element. This lake is perfect for it.” She dips back down out of his sight, and he moves to see her surrounded by the lines, sitting in the water as if there’s a chair under her instead of ten feet of deep water. Her body is translucent from the neck down; the water is a robe around her, covering her like she’s some aquatic goddess. Yet the lines still show through, pulsing in tune to a heartbeat. “Things can derail me, set my energy off. My magic isn’t very… resilient? No… fickle. It’s fickle, and I have to be in a right mood for it to work best. It doesn’t help when the Titans start fighting with each other.”

“Or when your sworn enemy shows up on your doorstep?” He offers.

Her lips curve into a smile. “That too. It’s not the biggest problem to offset my emotions; it’s helped that you haven’t tried to kill me in my sleep.”

“That you know of.”

She looks up at him, eyes wide, and the tendrils pulse rapidly until he can’t help but let a small smile crack through. “Oh, thank gods. You were joking.”

He chuckles. “So quick to presume the worst.”

“Well, do you blame me?”

“No, no, I can’t.” He stands, stretching. “I’ll be in the cabin.”

She hums in response, diving down and disappearing altogether except for the mass of blue tendrils, moving in a spiraling pattern towards the center of the lake. He  watches for a second, entranced before he turns back to examine the cabin more thoroughly.

The bookshelf is full of books like the herb appendix she had on her dresser. There’s only one that has letters he recognizes, however, and so he starts with that, glancing at the cover to see only the word _Sanguinism_. Of course she would have a book on vampires.

He sits in the chair closest to the hearth, blinking when he sinks into the chair until he’s at the perfect level of comfort. The book is leather bound, and he starts at the beginning, reading into the symptoms and eventual transformation into a vampire. He’s halfway through the book reading about dhampirs when Zatanna comes back into the cabin, clothes soaked. “Which one are you reading?”

“Sanguinism,” He murmurs, too focused on his reading.

“Ooh, broadening your horizons.” She sits next to the hearth, whispering into it. A small ember glows, and a fire crackles alive under her hands. The warmth is soothing and he nearly melts into the chair.

“Is this all-”

“Magic?” She looks up at him, impish smile on her face as she combs through her hair. “Yes. To anyone else, this is simply a lake that’s hidden away. The cabin is not only invisible; it also rests on another plane of existence. Simple transdimensional science, yet still tricky. Advanced stuff.”

“Yet you say simple.” He closes the book, marking it with the leather strap attached.

“Aww, ready to go so soon? You looked relaxed for once.” Slade shoots her a glare, but all Zatanna can do is grin. “Fine. We’ll go.”

A beeping sound interrupts what she’s going to say next, and Slade looks down to see a light flashing on the rim of the Fractal. He taps the watch and a small screen opens up.

> _Joey: Come quick. I need help._

Slade clears through the door without even stopping. Zatanna chases after him, shouting for him to slow down, and he only remembers then that the keys are in her pocket. She doesn’t stop either, and they both dive into the car, agreeing in the silence that time is of the essence.

* * *

_Where is it?_

She’s torn her entire room apart, and there’s not a trace amount of it here at all. None of the vials are left, and she can feel the effects starting to wear off, feel the world starts to speed up underneath her feet. The walls are cracking, and she can feel it starting to slip through like water.

 _Can’t do it, can’t fight fate little flower, can’t fight me_ _cantdoitcantdoitcantdoitcantdoit_

Rose pounds the wall, taking a deep breath. It’s still sun out and she has about three hours, she reckons. Three hours to plan out a small pharmacy heist in broad daylight, because there’s no way in hell she's letting anyone see her unsedated. She can’t let Joey see how much she’s being affected by this, can’t let Zatanna see how unhinged and manic she is.

If she hits an upper scale pharmacy, they’ll probably have what she’s looking for. She pulls up a map, sketching out the route she’ll take, before rolling her black sweater on. The tools she needs are stuffed into a small duffel bag that she slings over her shoulder. When she turns and shoves the curtains aside, her heart plummets at the sight of the moon high over her head. The dartboard she uses for her planning is scattered, papers everywhere behind her. Clothes are strewn all over the floor and bed. Her blood runs cold when she sees the familiar words carved into the wall with a knife.

_Can’t escape flower can’t run can’t hide_

It’s like a mirror shattering as she looks at it. When she started planning, the effects of the sedative were worn off, and she’s been planning the whole thing in and out of time. To go now is to risk a whole lot, even being captured again, and it makes her lean against the wall and sob.

She’s already too late.

* * *

It’s all set up.

Each screen shows Rose’s separate tabs on Fractal and each site it goes to and the path she took to get to those results. He feels bad for spying, but only in the slightest. Things have been worrying him, her attitude none the least, and it’s all starting to come together just how bad she’s been lately. He runs his hands through his hair, leaning back in Zatanna’s lab chair.

“Joey?”

He turns, seeing Zatanna standing behind him. “ _I’ve got a few things I need to show you_ ,” He says, fingers fiddling with a pen. “ _You might want to go get Slade._ ”

* * *

It’s so much worse than she thought.

_Star City >Oliver Queen>Felicity Smoak>John Diggle>Thea Queen>Malcolm Merlyn _

_Cassie Sandsmark >Donna Troy>Diana Prince>Themyscira>Artemis>Jason Todd>Roy Harper>Koriand’r _

_Bruce Wayne >Damian Wayne>Dick Grayson>Tim Drake>Stephanie Brown>Cassandra Cain>Barbara Gordon _

It’s not just searches, it’s visible that Rose is tracking every single one of these. Tracking every movement of money, tracking every GPS navigation that the subjects put in, every email that is sent. It’s not just obsessive, it’s downright compulsive.

Zatanna looks at all of the threads that Joey has shaped, plucking the Gotham one off. “Why is she tracking all of this?”

Joey shrugs. “ _She has no reason to. I can’t think of anything._ ”

Zatanna looks back at the strand. “We’re not on any of these,” She notes.

Slade finally speaks up. “Because she doesn’t need to track us. We’re right where she needs us.”

Joey nods then pauses. “ _Wait, what do you mean_?”

“Well, she can see the future, right?” When both Zatanna and Joey nod, he continues. “If I’m correct in what I’ve gleamed upon in this mess, this Book shows everything. What if it shows something she doesn’t like?”

Zatanna drops the thread, realization hitting her. “She’s trying to change things. Trying to change the future.” She turns to look at Slade, staring at him in a new light. “An ace up the sleeve. She’s trying to rewrite everything.”

Of course. Rose acknowledged that her father would turn into a monster, and so she pulled him out before he lost himself. She’s seen things, things that haven’t happened yet, but they’re things that Rose has deemed not suited for the future. Time is being changed, and Zatanna can feel the hair raise on her neck as she realizes that this won’t go unnoticed. People will see it, and there’s a fight to be fought when they come. She eyes Slade as he looks over the Star City thread. It’ll be an interesting fight when it happens.

“ _What do we do then?_ ” Joey asks.

“We assess how unstable her mental state is, we see what we can do to accommodate it, then we stick with her the best we can.” She turns to Slade, waiting. He looks back, then nods. “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page. Go up and see how she’s doing. I need to talk to Joey.”

* * *

Words are lost to him. How does he approach this? It’s a complicated matter, having to maneuver around without letting her know he knows who she really is to him. How does he act concerned? He knows the answer already; but it feels so heartless to seem concerned only because she’s the one paying him.

_You’ve already been heartless for so long. What’s another fifteen minutes?_

He sighs, knocking on her door. The sounds of things falling over alarm him and when she opens the door, he’s worried by the bloodshot white in her right eye.

“What?” She croaks out. “What do you want?”

“I was wondering where you were. We need to talk about the specifics of our situation.”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes. Doing good, doing so good-” She closes her eyes, letting out a sad laugh. “I’m not doing good. You can tell.”

He can’t lie to her honesty. “Yes.”

She shuffled back, grabbing papers off the desk and shoving them into his chest. “Diazepam. Pill and injection. Find it. Not stepping out of this room.” She grasps the side of her head, hissing. “Hard to concentrate.”

He looks past her shoulder, looks at the mess of her room and the writing on the wall. “Okay, I’ll find it. Try to rest.”

An arm snakes out and nails claw into his skin. “Don’t tell them,” She growls.

With a careful slowness, he pries her hand off. “I won’t.” When she continues to glare him, he realizes what she’s waiting for. “I promise.”

The door slams on his face and he lets out a long breath. Tranquilizers. There’s no way in hell that he’s going to tell Zatanna and Joey how gone Rose is; if she finds out he told them, he’s more than likely dead. He needs someone to help though, and as he looks over the papers, the perfect person dawns on him.

And he doesn’t even need to train her.

* * *

Paint is stuck under her nails, and Cassandra digs into her cuticles to scrub the black away. It drifts away with the water, pooling in an odd but beautiful void swirl. She looks back to see the painting, drying her hands with a towel. To most people, it wouldn’t be anything special, but she knows to her siblings and to Bruce, the night drop of Gotham is something that is unforgettable. She wonders where Bruce will put it; as much as he would like to seem as apathetic, she’s seen the room where he keeps Dick and Tim’s old drawings.

The doorbell rings, and she snaps her head up. Her shop is supposed to be closed. A glance to the monitor and she’s letting out a long sigh. Of course. Of course Slade Wilson would barge into her shop.

Cassandra palms her knife before turning the voice synthesizer on, parting the curtain and turning the corner to see him leaning on the counter. “Please regard the sign.”

He glances toward the sign she’s pointing at with her knife-“Do Not Touch Glass”-and stands. “I need your help,” He says after a few seconds, looking off to the side.

“I already gave it to you. If I understand correctly, you’re being fed by Zatanna. You would have no reason to be out of what rations and supplies I gave you.”

“It’s not that,” He spits out. “Rose isn’t… doing well.”

The concern in his voice draws her attention, and she realizes the way his brow is creased is a lot different than she’s used to. “Then what do you think I can do to help?”

He pulls out a few papers, folding them out in front of her on the counter. “She has already been plotting this, but she’s not exactly coherent enough to follow through. It’s a simple dash and grab.”

“And you didn’t tell Zatanna or Joey?”

“Rose doesn’t want them to know. I’m risking her wrath coming to you.” He traces over lines, humming. “She took meticulous effort to plan this.”

“She’s never done it any other way,” Cassandra murmurs. _She learned it from you_ , she thinks.

“It won’t be too difficult. We just need a distraction.”

She watches him look over the plans, and it’s eerie how similar he is to the Deathstroke she knew before, yet different enough to jar her senses. It’s not just his appearance, either; she can see the genuine concern on his face as he studies every possibility. “You know who she really is, don’t you?”

His sight shifts over to her, and the hairs on the back of her neck raise out of instinct. “It’s not that hard to figure out,” He says after a second, giving her a knowing smirk.

She can’t help but to smile. “Yes, when Dick told me her plan, I posed that question. Apparently, she said you’d never do the math.”

Slade scoffs at the statement. “There's not much math to do,” He murmurs. “Do you think you can fit through the vents?”

Cassandra leans over to see the layout. “That should work. You cause the distraction then?”

“But of course,” He says, rolling the papers up. “It’s what I’m good at.”

* * *

Spinning. Everything is spinning, and every time the revolutions slow down, there’s more and more of her wall covered in handwriting, future taunting her with what may happen and what she’s afraid of. She’s stuck in her own thoughts, rolling and growing in a tumultuous storm of anxiety and helplessness. There’s nothing she can do right now; she knows in the back of her consciousness that she’s imprisoned in her own body right now.

_This is worse than when Slade used to drug me._

A full revolution happens again, and she hears the window to her room open. Damn, it’s not locked. God, why didn’t she lock it? As she panics in her own mind, she feels a pinprick on her arm and the world starts to slow on her feet. Revolutions start pausing and letting her focus on things around her, and the shine of Cassandra’s bracelet is what she anchors on. Rose grabs Cassandra’s hand, pulling the bracelet to eye level so she can focus on it as the revolutions begin to stop. When she’s able to stare at the beads on the string for a solid couple of minutes, she lets out a long breath. “Who made this for you?”

“Damian,” Cassandra replies, pulling her arm away gently. “He was doing art and crafts with Alfred.”

Rose nods, looking around the destruction of her room. “Fuck, how long has it been?”

“Two days,” Slade replies from the corner. “We had to wait for the delivery truck to come by the pharmacy with the diazepam.”

“That’s fair.” Rose stands, waiting for everything to start spinning and letting out a sigh when it doesn’t. “Thank you both. I hate being like that.”

“Rose, this isn’t normal. Is this because of that book?” Cassandra asks.

Rose folds her arms, looking down to avoid either of them. After a deliberation, she nods. “Yeah. It’s adding a flux to my precognitive intuition, and if I’m not sedated, I can’t process anything. Diazepam is a sort of filter, and without it, I’m trapped in an overload of information of things that may or may not happen. I can plan things like this.” She turns to them. “So thank you.”

“We’ve got about three months supply of it here.” Slade tosses a bag to the center of the floor. “Hopefully by then, we’ve figured your situation out.”

“Hopefully. In the meantime…” Rose traces a finger over the handwriting. “I need to fix this room up before Zee sees it.”

“No, you need to let them know you’re okay,” Slade chastises. “I’ll clean the room up.”

“I’ve got to get back to the shop, or I’d help out,” Cassandra says.

“It’s cool. Get back, little shopkeeper,” Rose says with a wink. With a middle finger in the air, Cassandra leaves, jumping down from the second story. “Ahh, I love her.”

“She’s good,” Slade remarks.

Rose sits on the bed, sighing. “How much have you figured out?”

He tilts his head. “What do you-”

“I’ve been out for two days, I haven’t had much of a chance to censor your information.” Rose props a knee up, smiling bitterly. “So what do you know?”

* * *

What does he know?

He knows that there’s another version of him, knows that the older Deathstroke has done things that he can’t stomach- _can’t stomach right now_ , he thinks darkly. He knows that he more than likely trained Cassandra and definitely trained Rose- _kidnapped her with the help of Merlyn_ , his mind corrects. He knows that Joey is from another dimension, another universe where demons massacred the Titans. He knows that there’s more to Zatanna than meets the eye, more magic that he has yet to see. He knows Rose is his daughter, and that he’s beginning to get to the point of no return on the idea of leaving Rose and Joey behind. Already, he’s twisted around their fingers, and after only a week and a half, he’s willing to do whatever he needs to do to make sure they’re safe and sound. It’s selfish and highly irrational of him to be so protective, so willing to identify as their father as quick as he has, but he can’t help it.

He tells her all of the last ten days, tells her everything except the knowledge of her being his daughter. She nods and sighs, none too pleased but still calm. “Well, now you know. Most of it, at least.”

“There is one part that is vague,” He notes.

“Which one?”

“How did you escape?”

Her eyes widen, swallowing visibly before thinking. “There’s a lot to that. There’s a lot… a lot that you won’t like to hear.”

“Better to get it out of the way now,” Slade says, leaning against the wall.

Rose purses her lips, deep in thought. For a second, he thinks she’ll refuse, but she nods to his relief. “Tonight. After I’ve assured Joey and Zatanna I’m fine, I’ll tell you what happened tonight.” She cracks a crooked smile, and it relieves him to see it. “But for now, make good on your word and clean this place up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a few more chapters on the back burner, so I'll hold them hostage.


	7. three moves ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> one may have broken free, but the other still stays shackled to the darkness

The sound of light footsteps skipping down the stair into the garage perks Joey’s head up, and when hands clap around his eyes with a giggle, he can’t help but to smile. “ _Nice to see you back on your feet._ ”

“Nice to be back on them,” Rose replies, pulling her hands down to lean on his back. “What are you working on?”

“ _Tuning up Zatanna’s bike. Making sure it’s updated to the latest firmware._ ” He taps the computer with his stylus with emphasis. “ _She always puts them off until later._ ”

“Sounds like her.” Rose shifts her weight to her other foot. “I’m sorry for starting shit with Gar.”

“ _I’m sorry he’s been being a dick about this,_ ” Joey replies, pushing his hair back. “ _Between the divide of the Titans and Slade showing up, he’s been really feral lately._ ”

“Feral. That’s the word for it.” She slides a stool over, sitting down to watch him work. “We’ve been arguing since you got here.”

Joey smiles, giving her an aside look. “ _Isn’t that what siblings do? At least, as far as I’m concerned. Robins seem to have a different system going for them._ ” He cuts a wire, stripping it down to see where the problem is. “ _Dick sounds like he’s two steps away from tossing Jason in Arkham._ ”

Rose groans. “Just because Kori took a sabbatical and decided to stay with the Outlaws? He needs to get over himself. But, fuck Grayson. How have you been?”

“ _I was trying to get as much rest as possible before I stepped into Zatara Incorporated. Eastside has been feeling the effects of you leaving quite a bit. Donna isn’t speaking to me as much lately, which is fine because, you know, Donna. It does suck a bit for Miguel and Rick; every time they leave their Towers to go see each other, someone’s shooting them a glare._ ”

Rose’s face grimaces. “I’m sorry, Jojo. Had I known-”

Joey waves her off. “ _Don’t worry about it. All of this will blow over soon, and everyone’s gonna feel like a jerk when you come out of this in the right._ ”

She leans forward, resting her chin on her propped up hand. “You really think that?”

He gives her a toothy grin. “ _I know that. You wouldn’t be doing all of this if you didn’t have something in place. We’ve all figured out you’re playing a grandiose chess game. I trust being a pawn in your hands._ ”

“You sell yourself too short. You’re a bishop.”

“ _Then is Zatanna the queen?_ ”

Rose doesn’t say anything, and her silence alerts him that something is off. When he turns, she’s tight lipped, eyes down as she shakes her head. “No. She’s being targeted, Joey. I’m not just playing Destiny as an opponent, we’re also playing against the pieces. She’s the King, and the people that can use that against us know so as well. Maybe not in chess terms, but they’ve already pinpointed her being the root to everything. That much I can retain from the visions.”

“ _And what happens when she’s attacked?_ ”

“None of the Titans can stop it. She always dies, and things fall apart, and Westside and Eastside go to war.”

Joey examines at the screen in his hands. “ _None of the Titans._ ” His eyes dart to her with a mad appreciation. “ _Slade is an unexpected variable._ ” When she grins, he knows exactly what she’s doing. “ _What pieces are you making next?_ ”

“That one is tricky. I don’t think you’ll approve.”

“ _Try me._ ”

* * *

The vines along the stairwell greet him, and Slade welcomes it as he walks up to the garden, sliding his hand along the greenery. Zatanna is already in there, listening to soft music as she examines a pot of dirt. “C’mon, stop being so stubborn,” She murmurs, circling the rim of the pot with her finger.

“A watched seed doesn’t grow.”

She squeaks, reeling back as she turns to glare at him with her hand to her chest. “How did you do that? I didn’t even hear you.”

“Yes, it’s so unbelievable an ex-mercenary is good at being silent,” He retorts.

“Gods, I hate you,” Zatanna mutters, turning back to the pot.

He pulls the other chair over to check on the ornithogalum, cradling a blossom. The plant next to it isn’t something he recognizes and he slides closer to examine it. A red bioluminescent vein runs through the flower, framing the lining of each heart shaped petal. He leans in to inhale its scent, and it’s intoxicating and spicy and makes him feel so-

The plant is wrenched away from his hands and it’s like being dropped into ice water. Zatanna holds the plant away from him, cheeks pink from her blush as she shakes her head. “Not this one.”

“What is it?”

“It’s…” Her lips twitch as she tries not to smile. “The person who found it gave it the moniker of ‘lascivious rose’. Its other name is equiem, and its common use is as a hormone supplement and aphrodisiac.”

“Oh. _Oh._ ” He stares at the plant then back to her. “Then why do you have it?”

His question has her mouth opening and closing, deciding how precise she wants to tear him apart. “Ignoring the insinuation that I don’t have sex-”

“It wasn’t there,” He grumbles.

“-I have some people who are quite interested in the root, so I would thank you kindly if you wouldn’t mess around with it.” She turns on her heel, placing the plant on another shelf before facing her table and groaning. “Oh, godsdamn it, _now_ you grow.”

Slade looks over, covering his smile with his hand as he sees a miniature tree growing from the pot she was working with before. Its leaves are an olive green, the bark a light tan, and it moves as if there’s wind blowing gently throughout the greenhouse. “That is…?”

“Venleaf. I’ve been trying to get it to grow for a while, a friend of mine needs it for an investigation.” She pokes a branch, watching it sway back and forth. “Just in time, too.”

“How would venleaf help an investigation?”

Zatanna stares at the branch with a troubled frown. “It’s useful for more than just sleeping and weightlessness. If mixed with bloomshade, it’s a good truth serum. Very potent and very efficient.”

He leans back, folding his arms. “How unethical.”

He doesn’t mean it, of course. There’s been countless a time where he used more graphic and gorier methods, but he can’t help but to jab at the thought of Zatanna, paragon of purity, knowingly giving someone a truth serum for less than honest uses.

She scoffs, putting her hands on her hips. “If you have a better way of drugging a faerie, by all means, I’m listening.”

“Mm, fae must be as tricky as media covers them to be.”

“Oh, you haven't an idea,” She mutters. “They're bound by a lot of rituals. Their word is their soul, and to break it is a taboo beyond mortal understanding.”

“Isn't… never mind.”

“No, what is it?”

Slade thinks for a second, trying to figure out he'll pose the question. “Isn't it a bit unfair of you to drug the truth out then, if it's so bad for them to spill secrets?”

Zatanna looks away, and the glimpse of turmoil shocks him. “It's not… not that easy. This one kidnapped a child.”

“Isn't that what fae do? Changlings and all?”

Her smile is wan. “Look at who paid attention to their bedtime stories. No, it's what they used to do, which if it happened, it wouldn't be so bad; a simpler matter to sort out. But… this child wasn't replaced by anything. It was a message, and it's been a trouble of figuring out who sent it.” After a moment, she shrugs her shoulders, grabbing for her clippers. “Nothing to concern you, though.”

She’s right; it _doesn't_ concern him. But as he looks over the ornithogalum, a feeling scratches at the back of his mind and he's left with a single thought.

_Why am I so troubled by it, then?_

* * *

Rose sits on the railing, taking a drag off of it as the city lights twinkle in the distance. She can see the faint lights of East Tower and it's so off putting that she's on the other side of the window, wishing she could see what Cassie was doing.

_Oh, Cassie._

She takes another inhale, fighting the panging in her chest with nicotine. The metal stairs clang as someone ascends the stairs and they stop right behind her back, waiting. “They asleep?” She asks.

“Yes,” Slade answers.

“Good.” She grinds the cigarette into the metal, putting it in a coffee can that's on a wooden perch. Where to start? At the beginning, she supposes, but she doesn't know how to dance around the fact that she's his daughter. “This isn't going to be pretty.”

“Is it ever?”

* * *

_You grabbed me. It wasn't hard; I was only eleven and panicking over the shelter being on fire. I yelled at my friend to run, to go get help, and she did. You weren't fazed by it, didn't care. Mom was already dead, and Zatanna tried healing her, tried pulling the arrow out of her chest and making her-_

_Sorry._

_The guy that killed Mom opened some kind of magical portal and motioned you over. Zatanna tried to swing at you with her sword but you kicked her in. The portal closed and you dragged me out of the shelter, killing anyone who tried to stop you. I kicked and screamed, but you didn't care. All you did was toss me in the trunk of a car and drive us away, far away. We came to a warehouse, and you asked if I could behave myself. When I spat in your face, you threw me into a locked room._

_After a few days of keeping me under key, you let me out, told me that my old life didn't matter anymore. I told you to go to hell. You didn't like that much. No, didn't like that one bit. There was this syringe, and I tried running, tried fighting, but you caught me and injected me with a sort of mind control drug._

_I remember some things. I remember you saying that I was of no use to you, so in psychosis I cut out my eye to prove I was loyal. Rick made me this cybernetic one. It's useful, I guess. Sometimes it sparks and gives me a migraine. I remember the training, the constant beatings you gave me. I remember the tracking chip you implanted in my neck. I remember the mirakuru that you experimented with, the dose that ended up making me see the future. I remember the small things you would do to keep me happy enough under the delusion that you cared. After a while, you didn’t need the mind control drug anymore._

_There was a point where Dick infiltrated the Society, some organization you were apart of, and you knew exactly who he was, but he managed to deceive you into believing he was done being a hero. His goal was originally to find out more information about the Society. Then he met me, and it became a rescue mission. I thought you had my best interests at heart, but Dick quickly taught me what being a hero was like, what it meant, pointed out what your true colors were, and everything changed._

_The last mission we did together was in Star City. You wanted me to kill Oliver Queen, right when he came back to Sebastian Blood’s campaigning. It would cut some threads that would be beneficial to lose sooner than later. I didn’t know what your plan was, I didn’t know why you were doing it that way. All I knew was that if I didn’t do it, you would kill me._

_We snuck into Queen Manor, waited until it was dead of night. You and Dick went to take care of the family, and you sent me to kill Oliver. And as I stood there, watching him breathe, watching him live, I realized two things._

_One, that the need to see him beat you was too great for me to kill him, and even without that excuse, I still couldn’t have done it._

_Two, that while I was supposed to be killing him, Dick was fighting you, and there was an arrowhead nearby._

_I went into another room and bit down on a piece of cloth as I cut out the chip in my neck. With that, I discarded most of my gear into a bag and tied it off, hiding it in a garbage can. From the commotion, I could presume that Dick drugged the rest of the family before fighting you off. Dick’s friends, the West Titans, they were on standby, and when I stumbled out of the back entrance, they were so dumbfounded by the idea that I chose to turn away from you. Joey stayed behind while the rest ran off to go fight you off, telling me who he was and how proud of me he was before getting us back to Jump City. Everyone got back, and the only one who had any issue with me staying was Victor, but he eventually gave in and I became a Titan. The only issue was that space was becoming limited for people to live in, but Dick said he had a plan, and sent four of us to East City._

_Zatanna was waiting there, and no one else understood why we were both crying and hugging, but there she was, and I didn’t sleep in my own room for the next week. She told me everything that happened, what she fought, what she did to get out of limbo. She gave me what she found of Mom’s things that weren’t burned up. She made me feel like I was loved again, and I’d wake up screaming and crying and not once did she ignore me. She’d sit there and hold onto me until I calmed down or fell back asleep._

_East Titans became functional under Zatanna and Karen’s guidance, and soon Victor stepped up as leader. We became just as well known as West, and we made our marks along the hero circuit as being the ones to call when one doesn’t have a plan._

_There was still something on the back of my mind, though; still is. Joey may have told you about Tara, but I know no one around here except Zatanna knows the length of what you did to her. It was about three years ago that she showed up on your doorstep. Her brother was the one who worked on that earthquake machine for_ _the Undertaking in Star City, and so when Malcolm Merlyn killed her brother, she wanted revenge. She offered her help, you took it and offered your own. She… she offered her body. You took that, too._

_…as much as it disgusts me to talk about, it’s good to know from your expression that you’re not that low of a person yet._

_You two did…things, and I think that was the start of my mind breaking away from the control drug. I couldn’t stomach it. You never sent her undercover to the Titans, which would’ve just gotten her found out quicker with Joey knowing who she was from the other universe. …no, the other you has no idea who he is. When Joey’s out on the field, he’s covered head to toe, plus the bottle blondeness helps. …yes, it’s a dye job._

_Cassandra was drugged by you after I broke off. Before, she and I had fought and she won. This time, I brought her down and took her into her father to be detoxed. That’s how she’s familiar with you. As far as I know, there’s not anything you did to her besides the drugging._

_Tara… Tara is still on the other side, and she needs out. The last few times I’ve seen her, she’s looked like she’s on the brink of the death. She’s like a sister to me, even after all that’s happened. I know she doesn’t want to be there, but she’s gotten herself into something she can’t get out of by herself, and part of the reason I’m telling you all of this is because I need your help to get her out._

* * *

She’s lit another cigarette, and she stares at him as he tries processing what she’s said. “I know that-”

“Stop,” He says, barely audible over the wind. “Please.” Rose raises her eyebrows at the small beg. The expressions on his face-self loathing, disgust, anger-isn’t something she anticipated. His hands keep opening and closing and he can’t seem to focus on one particular spot. He’s lost, she realizes, and it’s taking him everything to find a holding. “I’ll give my answer tomorrow.”

“Slade-”

“I can’t, Rose.” He turns, heading down the stairs. “Not right now.”

* * *

He doesn’t know what to do.

Slade paces the room, thoughts buzzing in his mind. How? How did she still decide to pull him from the island even after all he’s done to her? Done to Cassandra? Done to-

An acidic burn grows in his chest, and he clutches at it as he tries to swallow. The urge to kill himself is the strongest it’s ever been, a dark and angry need as he thinks about where every sharp item in the loft is. Fury, white hot fury, is festering, boiling in his veins. To think he becomes such a monster should be a surprise, but what’s even more deplorable is that all he can feel is a bitter acceptance. Has he really dropped so far in life?

 _Moira Queen_ , A voice taunts, and he swallows down everything inside. For the first time since Oliver injected him with mirakuru, he’s feeling vulnerable and human. Regret pushes down more walls than hearing of Lilith’s death, walls that were strong throughout the Starling Siege, walls that he didn’t think to touch afterwards. He’s been running in his cell all this time, skirting around the feelings inside that nearly cripple him. The room is closing in around him, and Slade looks out the window, looks out to the city skyline.

He just needs to run a little more to be able to do what he needs to do.

‘Just a few hours, I’ll be back’ is what he writes on Fractal before slipping out the window, hologuise humming to life as he walks down the steps of the fire escape.

There’s something different about the area at night. It’s a kind of quiet that accentuates his loneliness. The shops are closed except for Cassandra’s, and he watches her put things away through the window before moving on, running from the clawed demons lurking in his mind. _You hurt her too, don’t think you deserve to even care about her_

He continues his walk, studying the yards he passes, toys and bikes sprawled out on the grass. _Could’ve had that if I’d done everything right. Could’ve been happy._

In the distance, he sees a cathedral standing above other buildings, drawing his attention. It’s dark, not as dark as his mood, but enough to complement it. He’s never been one for religion, but if there’s one place that he feels would be good for soul seeking, it’d be there.

The gates are closed, but it’s no matter as he climbs up the rails after turning invisible. He lands in the small graveyard, shaking away the guilt as he treads out of it. An access ladder leads up, and he follows it to the roof of one of the towers. He can see the loft from where he stands, a reminder he doesn’t need right now. The cathedral stone is cold under his hand as he sits down, seeping away any warmth left in him.

What is there left? The temptation to just fall is alluring, but he doesn’t know what he can and can’t do to get himself killed. If he runs, Joey will eventually track him down or report him to ARGUS and it’ll be back to the island for him. And to stay… to stay is to possibly hurt everyone further. _The Tower fight can only be the beginning_ , he reasons. _There can’t be anyone happy to have me here._

“Last place I’d expect you to show up.”

Zatanna’s voice rings out clearly, and he looks up, watching her as she sits next to him. “I didn’t hear you come up.”

She half smiles with irony. “Yes, it's so unbelievable that a magician is good at being silent.”

He snorts, glancing down at the street. Maybe Zatanna would know. “Has Rose ever fallen off a building?”

“Why do you ask?”

“At first thought, it was to see if it was a viable method of suicide. Now I’m just curious.”

She lets out an exasperated sigh. “Higher than this. Broke several ribs. They healed wrong by the time we got her back to the Tower, so we had to rebreak them.” Her lips purse, glare evident on her face. “How cowardly of you.”

“I don’t have very many options here, witch,” Slade snarls. “If I go, I go back to the island. If I stay-”

“If you stay, Rose has the one ally she’s asked for,” Zatanna interjects. “From what I can tell, everyone warned her against it. In spite of it all, she still chose to rescue you. Are you really going to spit in her face like that?”

“You expect me to think she wanted to get me? Her only reasoning is that I know what I would do if I was a disgusting piece of fucking scum like this.”

Zatanna looks off into the distance. “She told you about Tara.”

“Yes, she did,” He hisses out. “So excuse me for being not entirely onboard with staying.”

She doesn’t speak for a few more minutes. “That’s not you.”

Slade lets out a disgusted laugh. “Right. Let me guess, you’ve been lying to me this whole time?”

“No, you misunderstand.” She turns to him, demanding attention. “True, what we’re dealing with is a Deathstroke from the future. But you… aren’t that person yet. You may never be that person from here on out, and you have the chance to make sure of that.”

“How can you be so sure?” He asks, smiling bitterly.

“Rose believes in you. She never would’ve gotten you out otherwise. I have to believe in her.” When she stares at him, he can nearly feel hands turning his soul over. “Lili believed in you. I have to believe in you.”

“Don’t use her name,” He warns. “Leave Lilith out of this.”

“You’re only so defensive because you know I’m right.”

She is. He hates to admit it, but Zatanna knows how to pull strings. “Are you always such a good judge of character?”

“As of late. Talk to my exes, they’ll say something different,” She says, whisper of a smile on her lips. “Are you going to stay then?”

“It won’t matter what I do. Nothing could ever make things right,” He reasons.

“The effort of trying would.”

Could it? There’s so much riding on that possibility, and while he only has the word of Zatanna to go on, he also knows from his experience with both of the women that out of anyone, Zatanna knows Rose the best. It’s hard to think that he has to place so much trust in a woman that has entrusted her entire life with him.

The sound of sirens in the far distance draw away their attention, and an explosion blooms along the windows of a skyscraper where the commotion is happening. Zatanna jumps to her feet, worrying at her lip as she checks her phone. “The Titans might have it, but…”

“Let’s go.”

When she looks down at him, it’s with surprised wonder on her face. “You mean it?”

“Might as well stick around. After all, it’s not like I have a chip in my neck that tracks me or anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if y'all thought i wasn't going to cover Terra, you're wrong and don't worry, there's going to be some discussion later on about the whole relationship. (reading the Rebirth Deathstroke run has left a sour taste in my mouth)


	8. old scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he deals with scars he's never seen, she deals with scars that she will always see

Rose and Virgil’s words ring in Slade’s head as he leans against the side of the building, pushing back every urge to puke in the ground.

_You know how magical shifts work._

_Yeah, Zee laughing at you while your head’s in a trash can. Fond memories._

A hand on his shoulder centers him back, and Zatanna gives him a pitying look. “Sorry, shifts can do that.”

He’s about to tell her not to worry about it, but an explosion shakes the ground. A burst of lightning passes by, then comes back, revealing Virgil in a black outfit under a harness with a dark blue tailcoat and set of goggles on. “Hey, glad you made it to the party, Zee.”

“What’s the status?”

“Doctor Light,” Virgil scoffs. “Small time shit.”

“Right. Well, do what you do best.”

Virgil may not notice the way she tenses up, but as he darts away in a dash full of lightning, Slade continues to study her, curious with her reaction.

“Don’t ask.” It rings out in the air, and he raises his eyebrows in response. “Not right now,” She says, eyes steely with a warning.

Another streak of light flashes by, much brighter this time. A woman passes, and the quick glimpse Slade gets of her recalls him back to the picture he saw before. “Who was that?”

“Her name is Cassie. Goes by Wonder Girl. Really good kid, very courageous and always does the right thing. She, uhm…” Zatanna worries at her lip as Virgil runs past again. “Her and Rose have a peculiar relationship.”

“Peculiar how?” When Zatanna gives him a look, he scoffs. “My daughter is dating some girl scout?”

“I’m somewhat perplexed that’s the detail you focus on,” Zatanna comments. “Was, by the way. Cassie broke it off.”

“Really?”

“Cassie gave her an ultimatum. Rose left anyways.”

He doesn’t say anything yet, listening to the sounds in the distance. “Was it worth it?”

“I don’t know,” Zatanna says slowly. “Were you?”

It takes a few seconds for him to identify what he’s feeling, and before he can dwell on it any longer, a figure slips into the alley with them, throwing up a light construction to shield them from the Titans outside.

“Zatanna,” The figure croons, bringing his hands together. “We have much to talk about.” He turns his head towards Slade, allowing him to get a glimpse of the weathered face that is twisted with a smirk. “Good on you, Deathstroke. Thought you were in Blüdhaven, but I’m glad to have your assistance.” The man turns before he sees Slade snarl, and as Doctor Light closes in on an apathetic Zatanna, Slade moves fast; before Zatanna can even react, Slade swings, knocking Light out with one punch.

The light construct breaks, and Zatanna is pulling Slade away, nails digging into his wrist. “We need to go,” She bursts out.

“What is the rush?” He asks, even as he runs with her.

Instead of answering, she keeps running. Within a second, they’ve shifted to the loft, and Slade collapses against the wall, body racked with convulsions. It feels cold, like he’s been tossed into the sea. A pressure in his chests persists, crushing down on his lungs. A hand, a warmth, touches his shoulder, and he can hear Zatanna’s voice through a layer of hazy smoke.

“Damn it, stay with me!”

He feels her pull him up, and he doesn’t have much choice other than to lean against her. As he starts to try to support himself, she wraps an arm around him and keeps him held down.

“Don’t try. You’re not strong enough right now.”

It’s almost an insult, but he doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to follow her along. Even through the haze, he maps out that they’re going to the lab, and as she lowers him into a chair, the telltale clinking of vials chills him over. Her thumb presses along his forearm, looking for a vein, and he tries to shy away as best as he can.

“It’s the only way to make you feel better.”

Slade can’t think of any way for him to feel better from this, can’t think of anything except death that will release him from this. His brief distraction gives her enough time to swab with a wipe, and before he can stop her, she drives the needle into his arm.

The relief is instant; warmth floods him as soon as she pulls the needle out, and the queasy feeling in his stomach starts to dissipate. A panic starts in the core of his heart as the feeling of the metal needle echoes along his skin. He stares at the floor, shivering as memories brim to the surface.

“Slade?”

A hand touches his shoulder, and it takes everything for him to not take advantage of the freedom he has and crush it under his grip. He swears he sees a latex glove on her hand as he shrugs it off, but when he blinks, her skin is bare. To her credit, her worried face doesn’t change as he glares at her. “Don’t ever stick me again.”

There’s enough of a threat in his voice that she steps away. “Right. Okay.” Slade looks away back to the ground, footsteps echo as she walks away, only to decrescendo and crescendo as she comes back to him. “Here.”

He almost argues with whatever she’s about to do, but as soon as the blanket slings around his shoulders, a sigh works its way out of his lungs. An unexplainable calm washes over him, and he wraps himself more into the fabric. Zatanna reaches for him once more, and this time, he lets her. She leads him back up the stairs and into his room, guiding him to his bed. “Shift sickness can take a few hours to fully go away. Sleep it off.”

He collapses into the bed, not bothering to pull the other blankets over himself. A strong feeling of fatigue still lingers, and as he’s about pass out, she shakes his shoulder.

“Slade?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you,” She whispers. “For-”

“It’s my job,” He murmurs. “Now go.”

She complies, and as she leaves, the blanket adds another layer of tranquility, and even if he wanted to fight it, the weight is too strong for him to resist.

* * *

Slade wakes up slowly, still underneath the magical blanket that Zatanna gave him. The calm from last night weaves its magic over him, even as he gets up and pushes it off. He’s thinking straight-well, thinking straighter, and he looks down at the Fractal to see a small envelope on the screen that opens into a letter when he touches it. “ _Nice to have you home,_ ” It reads. “ _I heard you knocked some Lights out. Thanks c: - Joey._ ”

The wordplay makes him smile as he lowers his arm and looks out the window, staring at the sunlight. He can see the cathedral top from here; the sight of the stony ledge unearths his dilemma again, but this time, he has more of a grasp on his emotions.

He could walk away from this, stay on the run from ARGUS, but the active word in that sentence is ‘could’. If he’s going to be here anyways watching out for Zatanna, he may as well find a way to get closer to Rose, and what better way than to try to show he’s turned over a new leaf? He doesn’t know how much of his anger is still left from the mirakuru, how much of it is actual human anger and how much of it is an unnatural rage, but he knows enough of it is human to care about what he’s done. A small part of him wants to detach himself completely and not take responsibility for his doppelgänger’s actions, but the greater part of himself recoils in disgust at the idea. As much as he’d like to say that it wasn’t him, he obviously has the capability to be that person.

_You may never be that person from here on out, and you have the chance to make sure of that._

Zatanna’s face, earnest and solemn, floats through his head and he sighs. She’s right; there’s no way for him to let go of what he did, no way for him to disown it, and he has the best chance to make it right by staying. By helping.

He gets up, changing into new clothes before stepping out. When he knocks on Rose’s door, she doesn’t answer. His Fractal chimes and he looks down to see an incoming call from Joey. “Yes?”

“ _I saw you knocking. She’s in the garage working on things._ ”

“Thank you.” He ends the call quickly, biting off the ‘son’ he almost added to the end of his gratitude.

When he enters the garage, Rose looks up from her table, haphazardly covering the papers she’s working on. “What?”

“I’ll help you with Tara.”

She scatters the papers back to where they were, grinning all the way. “Yes, good. I don’t have to resort to half of my plans that way then.” After they’re back in order, she cocks her head to the side. “What made you change your mind?”

“It’ll do nothing for me to run,” He says matter of factly. “It does nothing for me to hide and wait. The only thing I can do is try to make amends. Plus, if I’m going to be here anyways, might as well find something to do.”

The smile she gives him is hard to not react to; it’s triumphant and proud, like she’s won something that she’s been waiting for forever. It’s something that he’s happy to see, something he wants to see more.

“I’m glad you’ve found something to stay for, then,” She says, soft and earnest. “Now, I heard about your encounter with Arthur Light last night. What do you think of him?”

“Depends,” Slade replies. “Why was he being so...menacing towards Zatanna?”

Rose lets out a long breath, avoiding eye contact for the longest minute. “So… something you should know about her magic. What she does around here, what little magic she does, is for a good reason.”

“Something happened.”

Rose nods her head. “She feels as if she's in danger of misusing it, which is obviously just paranoia, but she’s still convinced every little bit is capable of a butterfly effect. Joey told you about the other Earth. It’s the third one we’ve been able to find as of now. When Joey and Bart were rescued out of there, Zatanna went back and tried her best to do clean up. Containment, damage control. Treated it like a disease. They eventually got rid of the last of the demons. In the action of doing so, Zatanna made friends with a lot of good people. Also made a lot of enemies. Light’s one of them. He followed her back, and he’s been a thorn in everyone’s side ever since.”

“There’s not a Light here?”

Rose shrugs, tying her hair back into a ponytail. “Ask Joey about his switchboard theory. Essentially, there’s a status quo to the universe. Certain checks and balances have to uphold. Light being an enemy of the Titans is one of the major switches. Joey’s better at explaining it.”

“So, all of the Titans dying is a switch?”

“Like I said, ask Joey.” Rose hums, pinning a paper to her cork board. “Light said you were supposed to be in Blüdhaven. Seismic readings show a positive in abnormalities. With this…” She wraps string around the pins, highlighting Moscow, Milan, Lagos, and Mexico City. “That specific wave is identical to all of these ones.”

“That’s where he’s been, and with that, that’s where Tara’s been.” Slade looks at each city, noting how they all have a function that he’d personally use. They’re smart picks, but what else would a future version of himself do if not the smart thing? “What next?”

“I need to get a consultation with a few people. See if anyone in the Titans still likes me.” She stares at the board, and Slade almost asks what she’s doing until he remembers Joey’s words.

_I indulge myself with small selfish things. I watch Gar play games, I watch what's going on through Rose’s eye as long as it's unlocked, I check in on Rachel._

“Putting it on Fractal?”

She looks at him before smiling. It’s a smile Lili used to give him; the one where she’s amused with his keen eye. “Might need it for later. Maybe start another board on you.”

“I didn’t see anything about my activities on my page,” He says as he checks Fractal again.

“That’s because you’re searching wrong.” She grabs his arm and closes back to the home page, glancing at the photos he has framed before tapping the search bar. “Joey doesn’t keep the two of you under the same file. In his mind, you’re two separate beings.”

“You don’t agree?” He doesn’t mean anything by it, gauging where he was at in her mind. Her answer means a lot to him, he realizes, and as soon as the question is out of his mouth, he fears the answer she may give him.

“If you were the same person, I would’ve killed you on Lian Yu. End of story.”

If she notices the breath he lets out, she doesn’t say anything; instead, she points to the page, and a weird detail jumps out at him after a quick review of it. “There’s no pictures of me without the mask on.” His brow furrows and he cocks his head. “Do I look that different?”

“I didn’t peg you for being so vain,” Rose says, grinning at his exasperated look. “No, not by much. If one was to compare side by side, there’d be notable difference, but no extra scars or anything. You’re just extra careful about being caught without the mask. When you were between being back in Perth and showing up in Star City, you were building up an ARGUS file, or rather, you both were building the same one up.”

“You’re saying the older version of myself used what I was doing as cover?”

“Wouldn’t you? Oh wait,” She corrects cheekily. “You did.”

“It is convenient,” He admits. “Multiple locations at a time would confuse ARGUS. But if he was ever caught without the mask on, someone would’ve figured it out.”

“More than likely.” Rose drums her fingers along the table. “He never went out much, always sent me out to do his chores.”

“Rose?”

“Hmm?”

“You changed the subject and never finished explaining Zatanna’s magic to me.” It’s amusing to watch her purse her lips at her failure to distract him, but he hasn’t forgotten. Zatanna’s the one he has the most questions about; even with baring part of her past to him, there’s still a lot to account for. He needs to know more, because when comparing them, Zatanna holds jewels and pearls far more valuable than what his children can tell them.

“Sometimes I forget that you’re the one who taught me things,” She bemoans. “Yes, fine. There’s a balance she needs to her magic. It always works itself out. Emotion plays a big part of it, and it’s very intricate on how it all falls together. When she was on the other side, there were a lot of factors and…” Rose huffs out a long breath. “Light. He did some really bad stuff. Stuff that Zee took personally. She wiped his memories. Wiped everything existent in his brain of his villainy and of his powers. He got them back later on, but he wasn’t too happy about it. Followed her over here and now has a grudge he wants to settle.”

“How does he want to settle it?” Slade dares to ask.

“I don’t want to think about it,” Rose dismisses. “Because when I do, I get angry, and I get defensive. And to me, when it comes to Zatanna, the best defense is a stellar offense.”

* * *

Her phone rings, and the sound of the soft melody Virgil and Joey composed for her echoes through her office. Zatanna pulls the phone towards her, letting out a long sigh as the name ‘Johnny’ flashes on the screen. The debate inside herself to answer or ignore rages on before she picks it up and presses the green button. “Hey.”

“Zee,” John breathes, and the sound of it, the emotion of it, squeezes at her heart. “It’s been awhile, love.”

“Yes, it has.” She doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know if she should apologize. The last time she saw him, she’d been creeping away into the night to leave him in a hotel room in Shenzhen as he snored away a hangover, sleeping away the remnants of memory of the night before. The only certain feeling she retains is that their last night they spent together must still remain the last. They’re never good for each other, sparking each other’s weaknesses into flames. In the end, it’s always the same: he brings out her self destructiveness and she always tips back into using magic to self medicate, and she always pushes him back to the bottle, first for pleasure, then for comfort, and lastly for life.

“Look, I’m not calling to beg for you back. I lost the chance long ago,” He says, seemingly answering her thoughts. “But I needed to tell you something. I’ve been in Quebec a lot lately, treading grounds and finding a lot of troubling things.” He takes a deep breath, and the sound of it makes her blood freeze over as anticipation and dread fills her. “Zatanna, you must be careful. I don’t know for certain, but I have a feeling Nicholas may still be alive.”

All of the air in her lungs leaves her, and she grips the desk to hold onto anything, grounding herself from floating into an abyss of fear. She swallows, trying to find her voice. “Where are you?”

“Away. Safe.” The phone shifts and he sighs. “Don’t worry about me. You need to take care of yourself.”

“Yeah,” She whispers absently. “Thanks for the warning.” As he’s about to hang up, she speaks again. “And John?”

The silence between them is deafening until he whispers, “Yeah?”

“Stay safe. Take care of yourself.”

He chuckles before she hears the audible sound of him inhaling a cigarette. “Will do, love.”

Every cell of her body is unsettled as she puts the phone down. Walls start to close in around her, and she turns to look out the window, heart palpitating as she swears hundreds of Nick Necros walk the streets.

“Zatanna?”

Slade’s deep timbre draws her back to reality. “Yes?” She answers back after turning the headset on.

“What happened?”

She looks across the street, staring at the spot where he stands guard. With a swallow, she shakes her head. “Telemarketer. Just frustrated.”

Slade clicks his tongue, saying no more. She knows the lie doesn’t go unnoticed, but for now, he lets it pass without a word. Instead, he lets out a grumble. “Benedict seems to be smiling about something.”

Zatanna smiles. “You have no reason to be unhappy about that.”

“He was rude to Joey.”

“How petty,” She scoffs, trying not to smile. “You’ve taken to him, then?”

“He’s…” Slade pauses. “He’s what I expected. If he had lived.”

“Does it hurt?”

“In a sense.”

She hums, turning back to her desk. “If it makes you feel better, he’s in the same predicament. It hurts, but it’s also nice for him to be able to talk to you again.”

He groans as she sits down at her computer. “I hate that phrase.”

“What do you mean?”

“‘If it makes you feel better’, almost always followed by bad news. It never makes anyone feel better. Completely stupid way to try to cheer someone up.”

Zatanna smiles as she starts typing an email up. “That’s… I don’t even know what to say to that.”

He doesn’t reply, leaving her to her thoughts again. Coming back to her phone call makes her realize that she doesn’t feel as panicky over it, a sharp feeling chased away. As she takes a deep breath, the thought occurs to her. “Did you… did you distract me on purpose?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about,” Slade murmurs.

She says nothing, returning her full attention to her report. If he can let a lie slip, so can she.

* * *

He didn’t mean to listen in. He really didn’t.

The Jericho program is hard at work, checking every camera, every network, trying to find any trace of Nicholas Nolan. Half of Canada has been checked, the dead center being where John Constantine called Zatanna Zatara. Next, it’ll check the last confirmed location in China.

Joey didn’t mean to listen.

But he can’t help it, checking in on the progress every five seconds. Even as he types away at a report that Benedict is waiting for, the progression bar flashes in the top of his screen in a two second interval. Halfway through the report, he checks on his screen, groaning at the overexpectation he had. It’s still lagging behind, and he nearly throws his keyboard off the table in a spike of anger.

_No. You’re better than that._

He is, and that’s why he holds back. But just barely, the echo of doing so in another life resonating into this one. Joey bites his tongue, turning back to his report. As soon as he sends Benedict the attachment with a formal and detached email, he pulls up the full summary of what’s been searched. Forties pop up, and he’d rather that than a ten percent match rate. Indeed, Constantine was right; Nick Necro is alive and well. The thought churns his stomach as he remembers the last time he’d seen the mage. Zatanna has every reason to be frightened.

After all, Nick has taken her before.

The closer the search gets to the border of the States, the stronger the trail comes up, and Minnesota becomes white hot from how much activity he’s left there. A grainy still from a camera shows a car, window tinted, but not enough to hide the deep scar in Nick’s face that Zatanna left as a parting gift. He’s not looking healthy, to say the least, and Joey wonders what’s so interesting in Minnesota that Nick Necro is determined to get, even if he’s sick.

It’s not pleasant news to receive, but he wants to keep this from her as long as possible. As soon as they find the other Deathstroke, he’ll tell her and they’ll figure out what to do from there, but for now, Necro’s existence is the last thing Zatanna needs to think about. As much as she hides it, there are some scars left over from her abduction that have yet to heal.

Joey draws a bow across the screen and it bundles up into a folder that he tags as viewable only to him and Slade. He said he’d tell Slade what he knew, and it’s best that they have their own hub of information.

 _Secretly, though?_ His conscious asks him, guilt snaking its way in. Joey knows he shouldn’t be hiding all of this, but between Rose’s afflictions and Zatanna’s stress over the possibility of Nick even being alive, he doesn’t want to overload either of them with more on their plate. And maybe, just maybe, if he shares enough information with his pseudo father, Slade will stick around to help him sort this out even after the contract is complete.

Maybe.

* * *

It’s as she heads out that the least needed thing pops up in the lobby. His hands are in his suit pockets, face stoic as he waits for her to come down the stairs. Everyone avoids him, both because of the aura he gives off and because they know exactly who he is. “Zatanna,” Bruce calls out, and inside, Zatanna screams to the fates for their timing.

“Bruce,” She says, faking her smile. “What do I owe the surprise to?”

“Your recent guest,” He replies, and she swallows thickly as he stares at her the same way she’s seen him stare at Jason. It ruffles her feathers in the wrong way; she’s done nothing wrong. Instead of answering back, she pushes past him, heading towards the door. “Zatanna!” He hisses.

“Don’t make a scene, Bruce,” She murmurs, stepping out into the cool air. “You’re going to have the media on our backs.”

Bruce steps to her side as calmly as he can. “This is insane,” He mutters. “You cannot be placing your faith in that man.”

Zatanna looks to him, glancing at his chest before feeling her heart skip a beat at the red dot shining on his chest.

“Say the word,” Slade growls through her earpiece. “He’ll be gone within a second.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic,” Zatanna says, shaking her head. “Take your finger off the trigger.”

Bruce looks down at his chest and scoffs. “How uncivilized.”

“Yes, I’m glad you agree. Cornering me at work is definitely not appropriate,” She retorts, walking towards the crosswalk.

“You’re not safe,” Bruce warns, following close behind. “Why are you even doing this?”

“Rose thinks something’s going to happen,” She answers, bundling herself into her jacket more. “She can feel it.”

“Right. Trust the girl with the history of mental illness,” Bruce snarks. “You’re putting your faith into a hopeless cause.”

Before Zatanna can even say anything in Rose’s defense, a hologuised Slade appears out of a thin air and Bruce is pressed up against the wall, held in place by Slade’s hand on his throat. “Don’t think we’ve had the pleasure,” Slade seethes. “And I certainly will with a pistol if you breathe another ill word of my daughter again.”

Zatanna’s mind takes a few seconds to realize just exactly how fast Slade came racing down after her brush off before she realizes what’s happening. “Slade, don’t,” She grits out, glancing around at the passerby that have stopped to ogle. “You’re drawing attention.”

The two men share a extremely heated glare before Slade steps back, but it’s too late; a few people have already started recording with their phone what’s happening to Gotham’s starlet, his old friend, and this fresh meat to the Gotham gossip ring. Zatanna closes her eyes, squeezing them shut, starting to run away in her mind before screeching to a halt. She knows what she has to do, but she knows exactly what’s going to happen if she does it. As she opens her eyes, she starts her spell, whispering words intricately, and it visibly starts to weave itself into the street. Each person gets a glazed look on their face, and as she finishes, the area goes eerily quiet. “We have to go,” She says, grabbing Slade’s wrist and pulling, letting go as he follows, quickly melting into nothing under hologuise.

Bruce follows as well, to her chagrin. “Your memory spells have gotten better,” He says with disgust, just like she knew he would.

“Oh, go to hell, Bruce,” Zatanna spits out. “I didn’t ask you to show up.”

“I...worry,” Bruce finally bites out. “Just be careful.” He disappears into the crowd, vanishing out of sight. Zatanna gnashes her teeth together and walks faster towards her car.

“‘Just be careful’? Be careful about what? Be careful about the mercenary living in my house? Because I’m being very careful with that, he doesn’t even fucking KNOW how careful I’m being. Be careful about some unknown danger? Because I know sure as hell that I have plenty of people that are biting at the chance to kill me.” She can feel the ground click underneath her heels, almost stabbed by how hard she steps down. The people she passes veer out of her way as murder is etched on her face. Jamming the elevator button to the top floor of the parkade as hard as she can doesn’t make everything go away, but it’s a damn good start. “Be careful about what, my company? I’m already neck deep in the company work and trying my best to not get my back stabbed by Benedict. If anything, I should be watching out for Wayne Enterprises cornering in on me.” The car door opens for her without her even touching it, and she’s too upset to notice it as she slides into the car. “The nerve of him! As if I don’t know how to take care of myself!” She at least has enough focus to wait for the back door to open and close, signaling Slade’s entrance, before pulling out the parkade. “Who does he think he is? If he thinks he’s seen all I can do with magic, he’s in for a real fucking treat when I hide his goddamn manor from him. I don’t have an entire city after me, wanting my blood because I keep throwing them in jail time and time again. Is he going to fight me himself? I’d love to throw down with him. I might not win, but I’ll at least do the most damage. I’d do some physical damage, but I’ll fucking demolish him with how fucking fragile he is. ‘Just be careful’. He could be more careful that I don’t cut the breaks to his ugly as hell car. He’ll lose more than a goddamn wheel when I’m done with that piece of junk. All the Gotham Rogues will pale when I go and wipe him into the floor. I’ll make him-”

“Zatanna?”

Slade’s quiet interruption makes her stop, and she looks back at his visible form. “Am I not allowed to vent while I’m driving?”

“You’ve been parked in the loft garage for ten minutes.” He sits up from his scrunched down position and leans against the passenger seat. “You seem very upset with his appearance.”

“That’s…” She sighs, undoing her seatbelt. “An understatement. ...You know who he is, right?”

“Not too familiar, no.”

“Bruce Wayne?” She asks.

The way his eyebrows nearly shoot into his hairline makes her lips twitch. “The billionaire?” He starts to mischievously smile. “Are you telling me I just held a billionaire up by his throat?”

“It’s not the first time, right?” Zatanna gets out of the car, and she waits for him before entering the loft. “He’s a childhood friend. My father was very influential in Gotham, even if he did have us live frugally. Bruce changed after his parents died, and it’s completely fair that he did. But…he disappeared, and I had no one to talk to, so I ran away from home. He came back after Lilith died, ever looking the playboy billionaire that I didn’t know at all. But one night, Alfred called me. Alfred’s his butler, well, was his butler, but he mostly hangs around because he cares so much about Bruce. But when I went to the manor, I found Bruce with a few broken bones in a batsuit.”

“Wait, hold on.” Slade pinches the bridge of his nose. “No, you’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”

The look of the mercenary in flat out denial is something that makes her giggle. “Yeah, I am.”

Slade slowly drops his hand, scrunching his face together in pain like he has a headache. “Why do these rich kids end up putting a cape on and try to fight crime?”

“I don’t know. It’s a better use of their money? Either way, he took on an apprentice-”

“Dick Grayson. He said ‘Bruce is going to be pissed when he finds out about this’.” Slade closes his eye and chuckles. “Just another vigilante billionaire to deal.”

“Another?” Zatanna turns to face him, grinning as she pushes her lab door open. “Last I heard, Queen wasn’t pouring soup at the homeless shelter, he was asking for it.”

The comment bristles his mood as he follows her in. “Would you rather I do the same with your friend?”

Zatanna laughs, a melody as she smiles at him. “How I’d love to see you try. He let you hold him against that building. Any other place, any other situation, he’d wipe you to the floor.”

Slade leans against a table, folding his arms as he watches her start to harvest more of the venleaf off of a branch. “You don’t think that I could take him down?”

“Maybe.” Zatanna pulls a jar close to her, putting the floating leaf inside. “He’s taken you down before.”

“Really? My older self?”

“Mhm. It took a while. That’s why Alfred called me. It’s what got me investigating you in the first place and learning everything about the man who stole Rose away. In the process, though, I had to tell him about the time travel and everything.”

“How did you find out it was time travel?”

“A friend. You actually know-”

The lights of the lab start flashing red, and Slade’s Fractal automatically opens to show Joey in a serious mood. “Guys, we’ve got a situation.”

Zatanna rushes over with a baton to where Slade is, and he doesn’t stop to ask himself how she pulled that out of thin air without a word. “What’s wrong, Joey?”

“The Time Sensor went sky high. I’m pretty sure the Waverider is in the area.” Joey seems to be almost running down a hall with haste. “They’re probably here for Rose and what she’s been doing.”

“She’s in the loft, right?”

“Last time I checked, yes.”

As soon as he says that, Rose barrels into the lab, slamming the door behind her before punching in a code on the keypad. “Zee, what’s going on?”

“Most likely the Legends,” Zatanna says morosely. “We think they’re here for you.”

“Yeah, well, Aunt Sara’s gonna have a fun time breaking into here.” Three different doors shut themselves over the first, and Rose rushes down the steps towards a corner of the lab that Slade hasn’t paid much attention until now.

There’s glass cases of armor and weapons, and he hones in on the same one that Rose goes towards, studying the black catsuit with off white accents. He turns back to see Joey going for an outfit of his own before realizing what Rose said. “Aunt Sara? Don’t tell me-”

“I won’t tell you if you don’t ask then,” Rose interrupts, pulling an asymmetrical jacket over her.

Zatanna doesn’t seem to have any words for him, instead looking pained just by being there. “Zatanna?”

She sighs in defeat, closing her eyes. “Yes, it is Sara Lance.”

“ _Aunt?_ ”

Zatanna grimaces. “Well, that’s what happens when one of your mothers start dating someone, I guess.”

Slade knows which mother automatically as he takes in the tears that are prickling at her eyes and the way her hands are wringing each other raw. “What’d she do to you?”

Zatanna snorts, wiping her tears away and smiling at him bitterly. “She did her job. She made sure time would happen. She made sure that Lili was there to die in the fire and that Rose would be taken away.”

Slade almost says something, almost lets out a threat or a curse, but the lone object of his loathing speaks over the Fractal sound system.

“Just give us Rose, Zee. We’re not leaving until you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao if you're telling me zee and dinah didn't have something going on in the comics, we must have read different comics  
> but no, i really love sara as a character and can't wait to write out the contrast between her and zatanna
> 
> also cassierose is endgame, despite the smut series timeline. just don't worry, i got this, i promise


End file.
